Pandora the Brave
by Megami no Inazumi
Summary: Twenty-two Up. A mischievous six-year-old runs loose in the Château and comes across many strange things...
1. Rescue

Pandora the Brave

Megami no Inazumi

D/C: to my dismay, the matrix, its characters, blahblahblah, you know the drill. Anyways not mine, just Pandora. But she's cool, so I like her, and you can't have her, because I made her up, and yeah. Whatever, I bet you'd like me to actually get TO the story, right? 

Pandora the Brave

Chapter 1

The Merovingian sighed. Life was definitely getting boring. _Time for a drive_, he thought. Smirking, he told his one of his programmed waiters to get one of his cars ready.

"Which one?" stammered the man.

"Which one? _Which one?_ Mon dieu ! I don't give a shit! Pick one! Vite ! Vite ! Maintenant !" cried the Merovingian, exasperated.

One of the Twins sniggered. "Andele," he said to the waiter as he rushed past. 

The Merovingian continued muttering for several moments after the waiter left, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. The Twins imitated him, making faces at each other as they smoked their cigarettes.

When the waiter came back up, the Merovingian directed his posse down to the garage beneath the building across the street where a limousine was waiting. The waiter pulled open the door of the limousine, and a child's shriek echoed through the concrete garage, ricocheting across the walls, creating the utmost annoyance of the day for Mr. I-Have-A-Migraine-Because-You-Are-Breathing.

The group clamored into the sleek black limo amidst eerie sounds, footsteps, voices, and scuffles. That is, all except Persephone. She was getting in when the child screamed again. The footsteps came closer. They were on the upper level, just over their heads. Inside the car, the Twins looked up uneasily; they sensed an agent, or three. 

A loud crash, clatter, and thud announced the arrival of the child, who had fallen through a metal grate. The kid scrambled to its feet, brushing its long blonde hair back, revealing its face to belong to a young, terrified girl.

"Help me!" she cried.

The Merovingian grabbed Persephone's wrist. "Get in the car," he hissed.

Persephone looked back at the girl. Her leg was twisted unnaturally, her dusty face was streaked in tears.

"Please!" she wailed. "Help me!"

Two shots came through the hole in the ceiling. The girl yelped and covered her head in her hands.

Persephone looked at her husband and back at the girl. 'She's so helpless," she murmured.

"Persephone, I forbid you to save the girl," the Merovingian declared. "Persephone, stop. No. No saving helpless children."

She wrenched her arm out of his grasp.

"Persephone, get back in the car. Stop. In the car. Now. No saving. Stop."

She crept up to the girl and snatched her from the dusty shaft of light just before a hailstorm of bullets rained down from the unseen agents. Persephone leapt into the car as it drove by. One of the lackeys slammed the door, and they sped off into the street.

One Twin looked at the bundle of fluffy clothes and said, "Is it laundry day?"

Persephone glared at him, the Merovingian shook his head, and the rest of the car sniggered.

Brushing the child's hair from her face, Persephone asked, "Are you alright?"

The girl nodded, but her eyes were glazing over.

"Why were they chasing you?" she asked.

"I have… a code," the girl murmured before drifting into unconsciousness.


	2. Cookies and Flamethrowers

A/N: Helllllo… welcome to my world. WAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!

Responses!

JoJo: waio! Thank you. Here's the "more"

Starlight: To be honest, I didn't really think about ages till this chapter. In this she's five. In the first one, she was either almost five, or just barely five.

Audrey A: Well, Pandora gets spoiled because the Mero gives her stuff to make her shut up.

Stormhawk: I like to be silly, so expect funny stuff.

Tashilover: or sarcastic… or just stupid. lol…

Charon: Why thank you.

D/C: Pandora is mine. Everbody else… *sniff* not mine. 

Pandora the Brave

Chapter 2

Eleven 'o clock:

"Two?" a sleepy little girl rubbed her eyes and asked, tugging slightly on a tall, pale man's coat.

"What is it, weasel?" Two replied, trying to pretend as if the midget was not annoying him.

"I wanna cookie."

One turned around and said, "So what?"

The girl repeated herself stubbornly and squeezed her teddy into her crossed arms, "I wanna cookie. Please." She said 'please' as if it were some detestable word that she resented pronouncing.

"No. It's eleven 'o clock at night. No sweets," Two said.

"I don't care. I want a cookie."

One said, "Well you can't have one 'cause you should be asleep. Now go back to bed."

She stamped her foot, "No! I want a cookie and I want it now!"

Two knelt in front of her and held her shoulders, looking into her eyes. "Now, little one," he said, putting on his best fatherly tone, "there was a time when you could have had a cookie, but now is the time for sleeping. You need to go to bed right now, otherwise, I'm going to have to get your mother." Two stood up, feeling that he had done a fairly decent job explaining "no cookie" to the little girl.

However, the little girl was of the cunning type, and she heard the clacking of heels that meant that her mother was coming down the hall. She screamed, "I wanna cookie, dammit!" and kicked Two in the shin.

He yelped and clutched his leg.

~@~

Persephone sauntered through the hallway. Little Pandora had been put to bed nearly two hours ago, so the mansion had become rather quiet. Persephone planned to lounge on a balcony or crash one of her husband's parties.

"I wanna cookie, dammit!" echoed through the halls.

That was her daughter's voice. That was her five-year-old daughter's voice cursing. Cursing! She would maim whichever one of her husband's little goons taught her that word.

She sprinted down the hall as fast as her but-hugging, skin-tight dress would allow, which technically didn't count as a sprint as much as a strange shuffle.

The first thing that she saw was her daughter glowering sullenly at the twin ghosts, one of whom was hopping in place, clutching his shin. The other was smirking, obviously entertained by the fact that his brother had just been kicked by a five-year-old.

"Who taught you that word?" Persephone demanded of her daughter.

Without hesitating, the girl pointed at One and, glaring, said, "He did."

"What could possibly compel you to teach an innocent, sweet little angel such as Pandora such foul, vulgar language?!" Persephone shouted.

Two muttered, "Hardly an angel," as he rubbed his injured shin.

"What was that!"

"We didn't teach her anything," declared One. "Just 'cause she picks stuff up easily"

"Doesn't mean it's our fault," continued Two. "You should talk to your husband"

"About the shit he says in front of that girl," One finished. 

"I have a name, too, you know!" Pandora interjected.

"Who cares?" said One.

Two continued, "Besides, 'dammit'"

"Is not one of our preferred words" 

"If you know what we mean," said Two.

"I don't care!" screeched Persephone. "I want my daughter to have a clean mouth and a refined character!"

"I still want a cookie," Pandora said.

The adults were still arguing over whose fault was the cursing child. She had screamed 'dammit' because she thought that her mother would give her a cookie to "console" her for the mean boys, but so far, she had not paid much attention to her.

Pandora, wily child that she was, decided to test how much attention the adults were paying her.

"Can I have a gun?"

Persephone said, "No," in the middle of another sentence before saying, "Look how you've corrupted her! The child wants a gun now!"

By this time, Pandora was fuming. "Can I have a flame-thrower then?" she asked.

This time, Two was the one who told her that she could not have her wish.

"Maybe I could have a knife?" she asked.

One answered her, "No, we are the ones who get knives, not you."

This enraged Pandora, but she put on her sweetest face and asked, "How about a cookie?"

All three adults turned away from their fight and shouted, "NO!"

Pandora shrieked, shattering the nearest light bulb, and ran back to her bedroom, where she slammed the door and locked it.

~MnI~

I hope you liked it. Oh, and the brave in the title comes in later. I promise she'll only be a brat for maybe, four or so more chapters. 


	3. Revenge of the Babysat

A/N: Longest chapter so far. This time, it's from the Twins' perspective. Both of them. Two separate incidents. The first is from One and the second from Two. It shouldn't be too hard to figure out, though. Hope you like! ^^;

D/C: meh.. if you're that interested in finding out that I don't own anything but Pandora then go read the first chpt. My fingers hurt enough as if is.

Pandora the Brave

Chapter Three:

The girl Pandora is only spoiled because the Mero gives her whatever she pleases, so long as she's quiet. Personally, we find this rather irritating, as she won't quit screaming unless we are her babysitters. Aggravating, no? Of course it is! The brat fusses over our hair, and we like it just the way it is, thank you. We swear, next time she comes near us with a brush, we're phasing. This is something that drives her mad. She doesn't like two things about this. The first is that she can't do it, and the second is that she claims we look like corpses. We wonder where she learned that bit of vocabulary. She better not blame us again or we're going to pitch tantrums ourselves. Honestly, we got kicked and we got blamed for teaching her the word 'damn' although we rarely ever say _that_. Not that Persephone cares. We think the worst part about the girl is that her mother thinks she's an angel. Cute little Pandora can't do a thing wrong.

But everyone else can.

And does.

Right now, we're having tea with the tike, hoping she won't spill the marker liquid on us. She can't really expect us to drink it. We drink it, and we're appalled.

'How can we drink that shit?' we mentally ask our twin.

'It's quite nice, actually,' we answer.

Disgusting we think. Alas, we cannot control what we want to do, that's our job.

'Are we doing that so that she doesn't get into a temper?' we ask.

'If keeping that brat out of a temper means drinking a nice cup of tea, then we don't see why we shouldn't,' we declare.

We snicker. We obviously don't know that it's markers. We say, 'We _do_ know that that 'tea' is made from a brown marker and a red one?' as we sip at the cup.

We sputter and choke. It's funny watching us attempt to wash our mouth out.

"Pandora," we say. "What sort of tea is this?"

"Oh," the Shirley Temple-esque brat smiles, "it's called Crayola."

We snigger at the look of horror on our face. Stifling laughter, we say, "What flavor is it?"

She flashes us a toothy grin. "Brewn."

"Really," says we. We give us a dirty look.

"I'll bet that," we say.

"stands for"

"brown and red"

"eh?" says we. We look ready to kill something.

We're glad we didn't drink that stuff. It's probably toxic. You never know.

After 'tea,' we ask us, "We liked that didn't we?"

"No. We didn't."

"Awwww, poor us. We're always the one she beats up on."

"Shaddup."

"Do we still have a nasty purple bruise from her majesty?"

"Shut up!"

"Is our pride hurt 'cos the little five-year-old can beat up on us?" We like to taunt us. We don't know why, but sometimes it's fun to push our buttons.

"We said, 'Shut. UP!'" We grit our teeth.

The Merovingian walks by us. We're about to strangle us.

He doesn't say anything. We realize that we're being foolish and we continue on to our quarters. We apologize.

We says, "Don't worry about it. We never used to do that. Ever since she came, we've been acting strange."

We are right. Stupid girl. We don't like her. She makes us think differently.

~@~

Once again, Persephone is out, and we are to look after the munchkin. Pandora gives us a hug, but she glares at us. She doesn't like us, probably because we think she's always annoying. True, she is hard to look after, but she does seem to care about us. All of us. Except the Merovingian. She hates him. We think she resents asking him for presents.

Little Pandora wants to play a game. We are all in the front hall, having just seen the Mero off.

"Two," she says, tugging at our coat. "Two, I wanna play hide-and-go-seek."

"No," we hear us say. "No way."

We tag us. 'If we play, and make her it, she'll spend hours finding us.'

We agree. "Come to think of it," we say.

"We will play," we finish.

Pandora gets excited. "Yay!" she cries. "Oh lovely! I'll be It first. You have to the count of …" She pauses.

"How about"

"Fifty."

She scrunches her eyes together. "No no… not long enough."

"Two hundred?"

"Three hundred?"

"I know!" she exclaims exultantly. "A thousand! That you have a chance to hide."

"Where"

"is base?"

She scrunches her little face together, thinking. Then she excitedly proclaims that we shall use the little wood table next to the door as our base. She skips over, and we begin to leave.

"You can't hide together," she calls out, as an afterthought.

After she's out of earshot, we say, "Can she even count to one thousand?"

We is laughing. "The best part is," we say, "is she messes up, she'll start herself over again!"

Now it's our turn to laugh. After we stop, we say, "There's a room on the top floor with a tv, stereo, satellite, and a minibar."

"Let's go."

We phase and fly through several floors, walls, and doors.

We stop. "Are we sure we know where this is?"

We don't answer, but continue in a different direction.

We're lost, we have to admit it. We can't even figure out what floor we're on anymore. "Uh.. One," we say.

We stop. We know we don't use names unless we're serious. "Oh, tell us we haven't gotten us lost. Again."

"We have."

We look ready to kill us.

We say quickly, "It's not like last time. Last time we were lost, we were driving. This isn't driving."

"That's it," we declare. "We are never letting us lead. Ever. Again."

"But—"

"Never. Do we hear us? Never again!" Then we hear the bell. We check our watch. We say, "We lost us a whole hour already!"

"We're sorry…" we say as we follow us through the floor to the first floor.

"Who would ring the bell, here?" we ask.

"Do we look like we know?"

"Oh," we say glaring as we step towards the door. "We don't know anything."

We open it before us can. We glare.

There's a man standing out side with a red bag.

"May we"

"help you?"

"Here's your food. That'll be two thousand euros," he says, holding out a pizza.

"Two thousand euros?" we sputter together.

We know it has to be Pandora. Sneaky brat figured we'd hide all morning.

"She found the phone book," we say.

"We realized," answers us.

We phase to go the main lounge while we deal with the delivery boy. We know that we like to deal with troublesome people. We only hope that we don't get carried away. We also hope that we get to the brat first. We're more likely to not get violent—er, too violent.

Little Pandora is lounging on the loveseat, flipping through the kid's stations on the satellite. We want to strangle her, but we only say, "Your pizza's here."

"Oh really?" she asks with a smile. "Could you bring it in here? And a glass of soda, too?"

"Do you think we're going to do that?"

She looks disappointed. "I figured that since it's already here, you wouldn't mind keeping it."

We come up behind us, carrying the world's most expensive delivery pizza. "We want to know two things," we say. "How did this get here in under an hour and what the hell kind of pizza is this?"

Pandora has turned back to her cartoons. "I ordered it three days ago," she says boredly. We are going to strangle her. "It's cheese, chicken, and bell peppers."

At least it's a pizza we like.

"White pizza," Pandora finishes with the most devilish look a five-year-old could give you.

We are really going to strangle her this time. What kind of freak orders a pizza and asks for no sauce?

~MnI~

I never made tea out of markers, but I suppose it works. You can color water with markers, I know that much. I also was never much of a terror to the babysitters, so I got some ideas from Calvin and things I do when I have to watch my sister.

As to white pizzas, I think they're good sometimes, so don't hate me for saying that no sauce is strange. I just had to think of something so that the Twins wouldn't want any. 


	4. In the Midnight Hour

A/N: hm. well. I went back and decided to scratch Rhiannon for several reasons, among them being my absolute hatred for the character and the other being my revised version of that story has no room for a meeting between the two girls. The next three chapters have been edited and changed, removing Rhiannon and opening a side story that could possibly be expanded later. hope you enjoy this version better!

D/C: if you are a flying pig, then I own the Matrix. But only if you are a flying pig. See the first chap to save my poor fingers from writing a whole one out, thnx.

Pandora the Brave:

Chapter Four

The Twins are lounged out on oversized, overstuffed armchairs. The living room is full of such chairs and similar sofas, all gathered around a huge wide, flat screen tv. All of the furniture is arranged so that one can watch tv from any position on said furniture. One always lays with his head closer to the tv, whereas his brother, Two, always lays with his feet closer to the tv. Pandora, their charge, is sprawled in much the same way on the loveseat.

"So what"

"exactly are you?" the Twins ask.

Pandora is unperturbed by the strange question and continues to stare at the tv for several minutes. Just as the Twins are about to ask her again, she says, "I dunno. What are you?"

"You don't know"

"what you are?"

"Nope," Pandora replies. "What are you?"

"We," One motions with the most despicable smile, "are programs."

"Ghost programs," Two elaborates.

"Huh," Pandora says. "I don't know what I am. I don't know who would, either."

"You could be a program."

"You grew like six inches to a foot about a week"

"after we got you."

"Why don't you"

"do that again?"

" 'Cuz it's not my birthday," Pandora says, although she is thoroughly engrossed in the cartoons dancing across the screen.

"What?" both Twins say at once.

"Huh?" Pandora asks as the tv sucks her brains out through her eyes.

One turns off the tv.

"Hey! I was watching that!"

"You know"

"your birthday?!" the Twins ask, wondering at the little girl, as Persephone had asked her several times over the past few months.

"Uhuh… Sorta. I dunno what day it's on," she answers still watching the blank tv. "It happens about the time I grow up."

The Twins are interested now. "What the hell"

"do you mean?"

Pandora wants the tv on, and has gotten up. She walks over to One and starts fighting for the remote. "I mean that," she says as she snatches at the remote control. "Every year." Her teeth are gritted, and she snarls at One, who snarls back. "Gimme the remote!!"

"Can we let the girl finish?" asks Two.

"Here! Take it!" One throws the remote to Two, who holds it away from Pandora with one hand and holds her back with the other. 

"I want to watch the tv! Givit back!"

One imitates her, "Givit back! Givit back!"

"Hey!" she turns on One. "At least _I_ don't watch the damn home shopping network!"

"We watch the home shopping network?" asks Two, raising his eyebrow.

"We thought we wanted to know about this 'growing up' business?"

"We do!"

"Well then. Pandora?"

Pandora stomps back over to Two and snatches the remote, but he snatches it back. "No remote," he says.

"until you tell us"

"about growing up."

"You guys are mean." Pandora pouts.

"Tell us"

"Now!"

"EveryyearonmybirthdayIgrowupthreeyearsorsookaycanIhavetheremotebacknow?" Pandora said quickly as she snatched the remote.

"Uhhubbadubah?"

"What?!"

"'Sephone, I have figured out what ze hell kind of a sing zat child of yours is," the Merovingian announced triumphantly.

"Really?" Persephone inquired coldly. "What kind of a hell sing is my child?"

"A mistake!" he declared.

Persephone gave him a bloodcurdling glare.

"Honestly! I swear, my dear. Ze girl est une error de le Matrix. She ez ze culmination of all ze motherless ladies' vishes. Ze women have wished a child into ze world." He paused. "I sink." [think]

"You sink?" Persephone asked.

"Yes. La fille a une code. It'z too encrypted to understand. Maybe if ze girl would let me—"

"No. I do not want you picking her apart to zee what kind of a code she 'as. You would not put her back toghezer."

Little Pandora was being tucked into bed. Her neat pink room was dark and in order. Persephone sat down on the bed and bade the little girl goodnight. She mumbled in return, her little eyes barely open. Pandora zonked out instantly after Persephone turned out the light. The door closed.

Pandora opened one eye. She put her ear to the wall and decided that it was safe. After scrambling into a dressing gown, she pulled a candlestick out of a drawer, and stuffed it into a holder, whipping some matches out of the open drawer. She deftly lit the candle, tucked the matchbook into the pocket of her robe, and closed the drawer without a sound. She opened the door and crept down the hall.

Pandora made her way for the Merovingian's study, tiptoeing silently through the corridors. As she reached the door, she heard a creak down the hall. Quick as a flash her candle was out and she was crouched on the ceiling, her vibrant blue eyes searching the shadows for a creature on which to blame the sound. A light shone bright through the hall, harsh and orange against the soft darkness, but welcoming and cheery just the same. Pandora was repulsed by it, simply owing to the fact that she preferred day to be sunwashed and night to be moonlit. She shrank closer to the ceiling as the black shape of a person walked out of the door, shut off the light, and walked right underneath her. Ordinarily Pandora would have dropped just in front of him as a prank, but she had a job to do. As soon as the man had disappeared, she landed silently on her feet and crept into the study.

She closed the door with her back to the room, but the huge wide windows lit the room up spectacularly compared to the mostly pitch dark hall where an occasional window cast a square or two of light on the floor or the wall. Even with the tall windows, Pandora still needed more light, so she lit her candle just as swiftly and expertly as she had in her bedroom.

The library was enormous as opposed to Pandora's relatively small bedroom, where she could take less than fifteen steps to cross it. There had to be at least four large tables with ample room for two or three more between the windows and the door. On each table books sat open alongside maps and instruments, and wooden cases were stacked at their feet, as if some great explorer lived in the house, and this were the cabin of his ship. Pandora recognized the Merovingian's flair for decoration instantly, and the beautiful room became oppressive to her. Shaking herself free of her thoughts, she crept to the desk and began rooting through papers for a set of keys.

She wanted to bother the Merovingian when he was entertaining, just to see what he would do or say about her. No doubt, he would pretend he had never seen her and have one of his little waiters come fetch her away, but it was definitely worth the trouble. The stupid waiters were fun to pester, and she could easily get a cookie out of the chief chef, anyways.

Just as she was about to get up to search elsewhere, Pandora felt a crackling in her bones, and she knew that the Merovingian was using his magic keys on the door. Again her candle was out, but this time she crouched under the desk, which was good for her, as the enormity of the room would not hide her on the ceiling from the Frenchman's beady eye. Even so, her place under the desk was not safe. All the snobbish fop had to do was sit down in his fancy leather chair, and Pandora was as good as a scoop of ice cream in the Sahara. The Frenchman stepped into the room picoseconds after she had ducked out of sight, but he did not seem to notice the ruffled state of his stylishly messy desk.

However, the fates were with the little child, and in all good fortune to her, the Merovingian led his guest to a small receiving area a short distance away. They sat down and began to talk in low voices, so that Pandora could scarcely hear them. She sat still for a few fractions of a second before her innocent curiosity got the better of her.

Little Pandora crept out from her place and snuck to the back of the Merovingian's chair. 

"So. You hahve fouhnd an ahsassahn for meh?" the Frenchman drawled out in his outrageous accent.

"He is one of those weird programs the System wrote eras ago," replied a gruff, grating voice that Pandora faintly recognized.

"'Ow do you mean?" asked the Mero.

The man said, "Back when the eras weren't so openly corrupt, people woke up a lot, and the System wrote programs to cause trouble. There were millions."

"Ah!" the Mero interrupted. "You mean zhe faery races?"

"Yes," answered the spy. "He is one of those programs, but he is not one of the faeries."

"I zee," the Mero stated, leaning back in his chair to think. After several minutes he continued. "Vhat eez 'e?"

"He was one of the earlier programs, not the mass produced faes."

"So 'e eez a single entity vith no doubles?"

"Yes."

"Anysing ehlse? Names? Suggestions?"

"Name's Loki. He's got a friend named Puck, and they're often seen together. You should just arrange a meeting with him. He'll come."

"Mm. Zhank you. If 'e does not like zhe offer, will 'e… do anysing?"

"He'll fight a bit. Just take 'em captive, he'll turn eventually."

"Zhank you. And have you found anyzhing more on the little gerl?"

"Other than more testimonies backing my previous theory, no." There was a pause as the men sipped their drinks.

"So zhe gerl is still just a miztake of ze zystem, ahnd zere is little else important about 'er. Which brings me to my next question. What ever happened to the box I had you searching for?"

"It disappeared. All records now show that it never existed. Something must have happened to it."

"Aha. Did you ever find out what it looked like?"

"Mahogany, dark wood of some kind. Carved. Hell knows. It might have been stone or gold or something else, but by most accounts it was wooden. And large. As I said, hell knows."

"Mmm… thank you for your help."

"My pleasure," the man replied sardonically. He rose, bowed by the sound of it, and left the room. The Merovingian walked over to his desk and pulled out a small black book. He scribbled something inside it, set it down, and left promptly.

Without a thought to the contrary, Pandora zipped over the great big desk, snatched the small black book, and tore for the door as fast as she could run.

Presently she was in her bedroom, panting and gasping for air. She put her robe away and her candle, too, before crawling tired into bed. The next day she would call this person, hoping their number was in the book and warn them. This Loki was not going to be a prisoner of the Merovingian. He seemed cool. Pandora had no idea why she was going to help the stranger other than the fact that it would be something to do other than bother the Twins. And that it would make the Merovingian very angry. Pandora fell directly asleep.

~@~

It was not until the morning that little Pandora remembered that her telephone privileges had been revoked. It took her several hours to escape her twin babysitters and get to a phone. When she finally reached the man, it was nearly too late and she doubted that he would listen. Pandora decided to execute Plan B: to stop him at the door.

Pandora was going to trick the Twins into taking her to the city, and she would run to the restaurant, where she would daringly stop this Loki person dead in her tracks. Then she would run to tell her mother's stupid husband about it. And if she was bad enough, perhaps she could convince the Mero that it was time for a family outing.

So, plotting, Little Pandora made her way to the Twins' suite, the beginnings of her plan unfolding in her devious little mind.

~MnI~

Well, that's the new version. It's not much different; in fact, it's basically the same thing. Hope you liked it!


	5. Al's Toy Barn

A/N: This chapter has been revised and edited since it's original posting. If you did not read the last chapter, you should know that I've removed Rhiannon and replaced her with a man named Loki. You'll never guess what he is.  
Reviews:  
Kit19: no I didn't forget you! I just wanted to stick this one at the end. sorry to disappoint, but I kinda wanted Rhiannon's angst to stay out of this one… glad you like it! Thank you.  
and the little pandora pissed of the pretty twins, and then there was no more Pandora. Ahahaha, I'm so evil. Not really, but it's the thought that counts. Hope you liked, please review!

White Striped Skittle: that had not actually occurred to me… hehe, thanks! I'm glad somebunny noticed the change in pranks.  
JoJo: thanks so much! I'm so glad you enjoy it.  
Matrix-Twin1: eh, it's no problem. 'le vrais est le vrais' (although why I put that in French makes no sense to me either. the truth is the truth) picoseconds are thousandths of nanoseconds. Itty-bitty little things.  
  


Pandora the Brave:  
Chapter Five

"Two! Two! Come here! Two!"

"Oh god, Pan… What is it now?" Two asked, exasperated with Pandora's antics. _Telephones are the devil._

With little interest, One asked, "Why are we calling her Pan?" 

"You're not calling me Pan!" Pandora stomped her foot.

Two said, "Shush, Pan. We were speaking."

"Yeah. We were."

"We were saying?"

"Why are we calling her Pan?"

"It bothers her?"

"Fine."

"Why do we ask?"

"Two-o! Pleease!" Pandora whined. "Twooo, can we go to the city, pleeeeeeeeeeease?"

"Why?"

"I want to go to the mall!"

"You're six."

"What could you"

"possibly want to do"

"at the mall?"

Pandora thought quickly and said, "There's a really big toy store."

"Oh."

"Okay then."

"So… Can we go?"

"No," said One.

"What?!" she shrieked.

The Twins rubbed their ears. "Ow, dammit." "What the hell was" "that for?"

"I need to go to the toy store."

"Well you can't go," sneered One.

"But WHY?"

"We're not driving you," retorted One.

"Will you take me, Two?"

"No."

"What is wrong with you guys?" Pandora whined. "I really thought you liked me." She stuck out her lower lip and allowed her eyes to well up. "I just wanted to spend" Sniff. "Time with you."

Two shot One a semi-worried look.

Indifferent, One declared, "No way," as he turned the paper over and continued to read the day's current events.

Pandora's lip trembled. _Two can't stand it when I cry_, she thought. "Two?" she asked, turning her shining eyes on him.

"No," he said. Two stared hard at his paper, knowing that the little girl was about to burst into tears and run screaming down the hall. _The poor thing would be genuinely hurt and it would be all your fault,_ the mean voice in his head sneered. _She might even question her value and sink into a deep depression, ended in her suicide._

Pandora felt a little more frustrated with every second. The stupid assassin was going to get killed, and Pandora wanted to piss of the Merovingian as soon as possible, saving people was a bonus. One was being the general meanie that he always was, and Two was trying to follow his example.

_Can we please take her to the mall?_ Two asked his brother mentally.

_No._

_She's so hurt already. She's about to cry._

_Yeah, sure,_ One mentally snorted. _Crocodile tears._

_What?_

_She's playing us for a fool._

_She's about to cry. She's hurt._

_She's not hurt, moron. She knows that we don't like making her feel bad. She's lying to us._

_No she isn't._

_Fine, don't believe us._

_She would never do that._

_Idiot._

Pandora let some tears roll down her cheeks. "You don't love me, do you?" she sobbed, milking Two for all he was worth. "You hate me. You want me to die. I'll just go back to my room. Nobody loves me. Everybody hates me. The Merovingian, you…"

Two winced at being compared to the Mero. One rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

"I can't believe you," she wailed.

Two looked hard at his paper, determined not to look at Pandora, crying her eyes out, all on his account. The poor girl was distraught and worried and pitiful…

"How could you?" she cried, and ran down the hall. She was angry now. One knew that she was faking and had somehow convinced Two that he was right. She cursed all the way to her bedroom door. After throwing it shut and nearly knocking it out of the frame, she fell to pieces on the bed. With real tears, hot, angry tears of frustration, Pandora pounded on her pillow. "I hate them!" she shouted. "I hate them both! I hate them I hate them I hate them!"

She slammed her fists into the pillow and collapsed, her shoulders quaking. There was no way she could save Loki, no way she could piss of the Mero, no way she could get a really nice present. She was stuck inside the stupid mansion for the rest of the week, the month, probably her whole life. Or however much of her whole life she comprehended. 

~@~

Two looked up as the girl ran down the hall. He glanced at his immobile brother. "She's gone," he said, shocked.

"Yes, she is gone. Now we can read in peace."

"How can we be so coldhearted?!"

"How can we be such an idiot?" One said flatly.

"She's serious! Can't we tell? She's going to kill herself!"

"We seriously hope that nobody begs for their life to _us_. Because we seem to be really weak. Come off it, idiot. If she's upset, it's 'cause we saw through her, okay? Leave the brat alone."

"We're so heartless!" Two cried, throwing his paper down and storming out of the room.

One rolled his eyes and stood up. "Dammit. We _really_ didn't want to go anywhere today." He pulled some keys out of his pocket and left through another door.

~@~

Two knocked on Pandora's door. She was sobbing and gasping on the other side. "Go away."

"Pandora?"

"Go away!"

"Pandora, let us in." Two jiggled the handle. The door was unlocked.

"I said go away!"

Two stepped through the door, and dodged a flying, pink ruffled pillow. "Pandora, calm down."

"No!" she shouted. _Maybe he's coming around,_ she thought devilishly.

Two coaxed, "Pandora, we don't hate you."

"Yes you do! Otherwise you'd take me to the toy store." (A/N: that has got to be the brattiest thing I've ever heard.)

"Just because we aren't taking you to the toy store, doesn't mean we don't like you."

"Yes it does! You don't want to spend time with me! You just want me to go away because you hate me, just like the Merovingian!" Two winced again. "You hate me! Leave me alone!"

Two soothed, "No, Pandora. We don't hate you—"

"Then take me to the mall!"

~@~

One was staring straight ahead. Two watched him anxiously. The entire front seat was filled with sickening, stomach-churning tension. This tension, however, did not boil over to the backseat, where Pandora stared happily out the window, watching people walk past as huge tall buildings towered above them. They came closer and closer to the mall, passing the intriguing Museum of Natural History, with its giant dinosaur; the dazzling water garden, with its floating rainbows. Downtown was very interesting.

They pulled into the mall, a tall building resembling all of the offices around it, with a deep-set underground garage. The toy store ruled half of three stories, a magnificent store filled with sound and colour. Pandora's face glowed with joy as she dragged One and Two into the elevator and pressed the button for the 26th floor. 

The elevator ride was not in least bit enjoyable to One. The already bouncing Pandora, bounced faster as the lift passed each floor. At Parking Level 1, she had been on the balls of her feet, talking about what was new at the toy store. At the fifth floor, she was bouncing happily and babbling. On the tenth floor, she was incoherent. On the sixteenth floor, she was bouncing so fast that she was practically levitating. Ten floors later, she was acting like an over-excited puppy whose owner had just walked in the house after being separated for eight hours for the first time. One felt like shooting himself, or her, or both.

~@~

"Pandora! Where are you!" One demanded angrily.

She crouched lower underneath the huge pile of stuffed toys. _If I can't see them, they can't see me!_

"PANDORA!"

With a disgusted sigh, One stomped away, probably berating his "pathetic little brother" via their mental link. Sniggering with devilish glee, Pandora leapt from the toys and sprinted for the elevator.

"There she is!" cried Two. 

Pandora squealed as she flew into the elevator, the twins racing after her. Just as One was about to snag her, the doors closed. She screeched happily and clapped her hands. "Free! Haha!" she cried.

Suddenly and to her dismay, two ghoulish green faces peered at her from the wall.

~@~

Mrs. Lindhe stepped into the elevator, her parcels and bags nearly falling out of her arms. She was a nanny, a housekeeper, and her employer had sent her to pick up 'a few things' from the department store. Mrs. Lindhe almost had decided to wait for another elevator when the doors opened to reveal two eerily identical men and one furious little girl, all dressed in white. 

Steeling herself for whatever madness was sure to ensue, Mrs. Lindhe had stepped onto the elevator, trying to take up as little space as possible with four hatboxes and several large Neiman Marcus bags. She tried not to look, but she noticed the small girl attempting to shrug off her shoulders the hands of the two men beside her. Their grip looked firm and strong; no doubt, the girl was in trouble. Her neat white skirt was somewhat crumpled and the sleeve of her white blouse hung limp of her shoulder. Every now and again, when the elevator doors opened, the little thing would attempt to step forward, but the unyielding grip of the men held fast. 

Fortunately for Mrs. Lindhe, her floor was not too far down, and she was out of the elevator, with all thoughts of the strange twins and the girl pushed from her mind.

~@~

Pandora stood furiously between the Twins, her hair and clothes tussled and in disarray. The little silver belt, given to her by Persephone, lay twisted awkwardly on her hips. Every time the elevator doors opened, she attempted to step off, only to be pulled harshly back. When there was no-one else on the lift with them, she found herself slammed backwards into the wall.

To her surprise, she felt the lift slowing down to stop on the lobby floor. Just before the doors opened, she smashed Two's foot and socked One in the stomach, surprising and disabling the both of them. She sprinted from the elevator and out the door, tailed by outraged One and the half-limping Two.

Memories flooded her mind as she hurtled forward, not caring to dodge unwary passerby. She barreled into several startled businessmen, just as she had nearly a year before, the sounds of her pursuers hot on her heels dominating her mind. However, this time was different; she was running to somewhere, to the café, to the arms of her mother. And this time… this time the men behind her would only figuratively kill her if she were caught. The building was only around the corner, and she turned wide around it, her white dress shoe nearly sliding off the curb. Of course, she beat the Twins to the café and stopped the skeptical Loki seconds before he boarded the elevator. He had regarded her through his dark glasses for a moment, and then he thanked her and left.

~@~

Pandora stood gleefully and mischievously between the insanely livid Twins, her leprechaun's smile only causing them to hold her shoulders tighter. She had scared off the Merovingian's best find of all time. Undoubtedly, he would be duly incensed and easily persuaded into a really big present. The excitement nearly boiled over inside of her as the doors opened to reveal the Maitre d' of the Café La Vrai.

~MnI~  
Another edited chapter completed!


	6. The Dais

A/N: uhm.. sure. we had a really frustrating day and we're thoroughly prepared to take it out on the Mero. First, our ride forgot us and didn't take us to blockbuster. Then, we kept getting interrupted so that it took us about four hours to watch a 138 minute film. Uhuh, not cool. (Not to mention that our father created a diversion and told us that our cat was dying (she really wasn't) and stole our dvd.) NOW, our stupid computer has decided not to let us do screencaps. How are we supposed to get this totally freakin' awesome picture that we really want? AUGH!

But, we are the proud owner of Reloaded, which redeems EVERYTHING. What can we say, We're an otaku. Now to the story…

We mean, wait, reviews… heheheh  
Kit19: we torture them because we like them. And because we can. But that's beside the point. And we think we can promise that "cute pandora" won't use francais. That un-cute-ifies her. And also because our francais sux and we are kind of embarrassed of asking our teacher how to say random stuff en francais. Uhm yeah.  
White Striped Skittle: bourbon. bourbon. bourbon. we like the way bourbon sounds. (we don't know what it tastes like tho.) maybe they shall have their bourbon.

And *now* to the story…

PS: there are several minor edits, but they are basically changes from Rhiannon to Loki and she to he, so you can skip this.

Pandora the Brave:  
Chapter Six

Sputtering with shock and with no idea what he should do, the Maitre d' of the café simply pointed the Twins through the doors. As they passed, he looked curiously at the strange, slightly disheveled little girl following close behind.

The Merovingian happened to glance away from his vigilant watch on the door, only to look up to find two furious men leading an ecstatic six-year-old to the dais. Recognizing the gleam in the brat's eyes, the Merovingian knew that something, somewhere had gone horribly wrong.

When the trio reached the table, the Merovingian attempted to remember his therapist's anger management skills before throwing them to the winds in sheer fury as the blonde six-year-old smiled happily, waved, and ran to her mother, crying, "Mummy!" After a brief conversation, she crawled into Persephone's lap, watching the Twins and the Merovingian eagerly.

"Sit. Explain," the Merovingian growled.

"This morning," began Two.

"that spoiled brat of a girl convinced us to take her to the mall, where she ditched us, and ran all the way here," continued One, glaring at the 'spoiled brat.'

Two finished, "We have no idea what for."

"We tried to stop her,"

"But she's too small."

"She could fit through places"

"we cannot go."

"Like under people."

"Or through them."

"She ran down the street"

"At lunch hour no less"

"And crashed through a bunch of people!"

"And in the elevator,"

"She _kicked_ us!"

_Oh,_ that_'s_ _impressive._

_Shut up, us. It hurt._

_We_ know_, twit. We_ _felt it_.

"Are you telling me that a little gerl overpowered zeh bos of you?!" the Merovingian demanded, infuriated.  
One felt like slipping his hand around Pandora's slim and tender neck, and _crushing_ it. Instead he simply answered, "Overpowered is not the right word."  
Eyes bulging, the Merovingian cursed lividly. "Vell zhen, explain to me exahctly how a six-year-old gerl was able to disable two full grown men. And zhen beat zhem in a footrace through nerely a'undred people. Shay must 'ave done somesing, becauhse I cahn see no uhzer vay for her to have outdohne my best ah-sass-ahns."

Not willing to answer, the Twins allowed a strange silence to drag itself out as they sat thinking of all the various ways to murder unruly six-year-olds. Vats of boiling oil and hara-kiri sounded particularly interesting, but the iron maiden was also appealing. Conversing telepathically, they decided upon the best way to kill the little imp.

"Ahy 'ave no time for zis. Ahy hahve a meeting. Zhis matter hahs yet to be resolved," the Merovingian proclaimed, his eyes fixing on the door once again.

"You don't have a meeting," Pandora said quietly.

"Excusez moi?" the Merovingian asked, turning to her and narrowing his green eyes.

Pandora smiled, "Loki isn't coming."

"Quoi? Pourquoi? Qu'est-ce que vous avez fait?" the Merovingian demanded. (What? Why? What have you done?)

"Oh," she shrugged. "I told him the truth. Anyways, can we do something together? Like as a group or something?"

"Trusce? Whaht trusce? Qu'est-ce que vous avez dit à il?" the Merovingian sputtered, trying not to shout in his anger. (What did you say to her?)

Pandora snapped defensively, "I didn't tell him anything!"

"Whaht? You stupid gerl!"

Persephone interrupted, "Tell your fazher zhe trusce."

"He's not my father!" she shouted at the same time the Merovingian protested, "She'z not my daughter!" They glared at each other.

"Whaht zhe hell did you tell 'em?"

"I only told him the truth!"

"Tell me!"

"I told the truth!"

"Whaht did you zay, damn it all! I'll 'ave your tongue for zhis!"

"I only told him that you were lying!" cried Pandora, clutching her mother's neck.

"Lying? Whaht iz zis? Whaht did I lie abouht?" the Merovingian asked.

Pandora narrowed her crystal blue eyes and hissed, "You were going to kidnap him! You were going to kill him! You promised him that he would be safe."

"So whaht?" the Merovingian protested. "Ahy would 'ave put 'em back togezzer again!" Suddenly, he realized that Pandora had overheard his conversation. "Tu salope! Tu petite salope! 'Sephone, zhis child iz no longer under your authority. She 'as broken _my_ rules and will face _my_ punishment!"

Persephone protested, "Mais—"

"No, buts!" The Merovingian snatched Pandora away from her mother and dragged her out of the restaurant. To his surprise, she did not fight his grasp but only tried to keep up with his long stride. Gliding elegantly behind, the Twins followed, tailed by the worried Persephone and the rest of rather curious bodyguards. At the turn of a magic key, the Merovingian's posse waited around his desk while little Pandora faced a private interrogation.

~MnI~

we know that it's short, but we are currently under attack from this old oc we made up in seventh grade. We were stupid back then, and generally made all-powerful chars. Basically, if we don't write up something for him, we're gonna get killed. *sighs* oh yeah, and school…. We have to take psats on Tuesday. Blargh… ah well… until next time, whenever that is, ja ne mes aimes! And do review, it's like candy! And candy is good!

Ps: minor edits, nothing major.


	7. Crime and Punishment

A/N: God knows when this is gonna be finished… but I started it on Sunday. I mean.,…. Monday. Heh heh heh. Today…. Was interesting. I have no real reasons for torturing people, but hey, it's fun, so… ah yes, and there will be bourbon. Because I really like saying bourbon. Yes, it's all good. Hehehehe.  
Audrey A- yup! ^^ that's exactly what he says. (bithc, just like that) *takes sip of hershey's chocolate drink* you get a cookie! And thank you so much, I feel speshul! *skips away to read your stuff* *comes back to finish posting*  
Kit- yay! thank you! we love compliments *smiles annoyingly* we we we us us us! Ahahahaha  
White Striped Skittle- hope you had fun at DQ ^___^ actually, I get something like 6 hours of hw a night, so… anywho, otaku can be bad when you're writing fanfics in history class (like the last half of this) or when you find quotes about the twins in completely unrelated places (like in the amber spyglass) or when you and your friend are glared at for being "cross dressers" whilst costume-shopping in the mall or when … But there's not really much to the punishment… it's just, there…

PS: minor edits, not necessary to reread.

Pandora the Brave:  
Chapter 7 (wow…)

Pandora sat on a small wooden chair that was so uncomfortable it had to have been purposefully made that way. Pacing only feet in front of her was the Merovingian, pissed off, as usual. He was shouting at her in French, a language she only barely understood, but it sounded like cursing or damning or something of the sort. Every time that the man turned towards her, spittle flew at her, causing her to flinch almost unnoticeably. Pandora decided that she really hated French.

"Inexcusable! Impardonnable! Atroce! Espèce de vache! Je te déteste! Peux-tu pourrir dans enfer! Damnes-tu!" he was screaming. Pandora barely understood him, but that was probably because some French sounds almost like English. Eventually, he began to ask her questions, and she was forced to tell the whole story…   
~@~  
The Twins sat in chairs, each holding a small glass of bourbon and plotting against Pandora; they had both completely forgotten that she was being questioned by the Merovingian. Persephone sat close to them, biting her lip and looking worriedly over to the door at the end of the bookcase. She, too, held a glass of liquor, and she sipped at her brandy as she chewed on her perfect bottom lip, worried to pieces about the fate of her young daughter. Occasionally, she overheard one of the Twins mutter about a random weapon or way of causing death. At any other time, it would have been funny to her, but right now, her daughter was in real danger.  
~@~

"Again, WHY were you snooping around in the first place?" he demanded for the seventh time.

Pandora retorted defensively, "I _told_ you already! I just was!"

The Merovingian whipped a small silver dagger out of nowhere and was quite suddenly standing with it in Pandora's shocked face. "You see zhis?" he cried. "You 'zee zhis! Ahy may have bodyguards, but zhat does not mean that I cannot kill you wisth zis very knife!" He brandished it directly in front of her eyes, nearly blinding her as he waved it recklessly close to her corneas. "Ahy want zhe' trusce or you shahll find zhis thorugh your 'eart!"

"You wouldn't!" Pandora challenged in a high voice, the voice of a child.

The Merovingian's eyes flashed dangerously, and quietly he said, "Oh really?"

Pandora saw a flash a silver before she scrunched her eyes shut, and she felt searing pain race across her left cheek. Her hand flew to her face as she yelped. The Merovingian held the knife to her throat before she could react, and she felt the warmth of her own blood on her hand as she whimpered helplessly.  
~@~  
Persephone's neck nearly snapped as her head flew up at the sound of Pandora's cry. A terrible fear clutched her heart, it's grasp digging deep into her emotions, causing tears to choke up in her throat. She knew that something horrible had happened. She just knew it.  
~@~  
_Let's throttle her. That way we can watch her eyes glaze over… Her small body struggling for air…  
Ugh, that's horrible. We didn't know we were that sadistic.  
Are we still defending her? We do realize that we are probably as good as fired now? All because of that brat.  
No… He wouldn't dare fire us. We're too valuable.  
Oh. Sure. Especially after being outdone by a_ six-year-old_!  
_It was a fluke. How often does that happen? It was just luck.  
That's hard to prove.  
It happens to the best of us. Take Disney for example-  
Disney. Does. Not. Count.  
Fine.  
We could always tie her to a tree.  
_What?!  
_We didn't let us finish. We could use her for target practice. It'd scare the shit out of her and she'd still die.  
We like the strangling better.._  
_What was that we had suggested earlier? Boiling oil?  
Tar and feathering.  
Hahaha… that's painful.  
Pins under the fingernails.  
Now who's sadistic?  
Yeah, yeah—__

Pandora's muffled yelp interrupted them, and they both looked up, their murderous plans forgotten in the realization of how much danger Pandora really _was_ in. Two nearly flew out of his chair, switchblade in hand, but One stopped him.

_She has to be fine. He wouldn't kill her in there. If we stand up, we'll be a traitor.  
But—  
No. We can't!  
~@~  
_"I know what you said to him. I know what you heard. I know why you've done it. Now tell me: what do you know about the box?" he commanded quietly. "And think _very_ . carefully before you answer me. Hm?" he said as he pushed the blade painfully against her small neck.__

"Ite. I don't know. What box?" Pandora asked, the knife pressing against her windpipe.

"You know damn well what I mean, gerl."

"I don't, I swear!"

He moved the knife sideways slightly, creating a thin red line across her throat.

She whimpered softly, "Ite… I don't know. I swear. The only box I know of was destroyed!"

"Was it _zhe_ box? Zhe box from zhe legends?"

"What legends?" Pandora demanded. "How many legends are there including boxes!"

"Enough to convince me zhat zhe box existed!" the Merovingian retorted.

"Which box!"

"So you know about more than one?"

"I didn't say that!"

"Oh.. but you did."

"I did not!"

"Fine. You are of no uhse to me," he said, stepping back and releasing her from his knife. He turned, and sheathed his blade by the sound of it. The Merovingian then led Pandora from the room and out into the open space of the library.  
~@~  
As little Pandora stepped into the room, the Twins glanced up in unison, Two struggling to keep his composure and nearly losing it when he saw Pandora's face.

_The bastard slashed her face.  
Stay calm. We can take care of it later._

Persephone felt three thousand times better at the sight of her daughter, but she hesitated  and did not go to her.   
Pandora stood alone in the middle of the room, directly in front of the Merovingian's desk, where he sat haughtily in his great leather chair like an emperor on his throne room. She wished that someone would come stand close to her and offer her small comfort, but no-one came. The Merovingian laughed and ridiculed her in French, occasionally demanding something from her, but all she could do was sniffle and stand in silence and solitude. After several minutes, he began to speak in English, and he said, "It iz my understanding zhat Pandora did not fully realize what she wazz doing."

"Not so! I was saving that guy!"

"And in herr moment of 'eroizm, she did not think about what consehquencez she would incur for her ahctions. Therefore, Pandora vill be grounded."

The Twins looked at each other nervously, each knowing with full certainty who would be left to guard her; Persephone released an audible sigh of relief.

"Grounded in zhe dungeons for zhree weeks and wizth only bread and water for two. In addition, Ahy vill personally phone zhe man in question with all here to bear witness to it."  
~@~

Pandora sat up slowly, trying to ease the crick in her back. _Three days…_ she thought to herself. _Only three more days of this torture._ A vampire she had never met before stood guard at the door. Sleeping on a metal bed had certainly not done Pandora any good, and she found herself barely rested and the victim of a severe and constant pain in her lower back. After pacing uselessly for an hour, stretching in a futile attempt to relieve her back, and finishing off her meager breakfast, Pandora lay back down on the steel table that was her bunk. She stared blankly into the ceiling in the same manner as she watched the tv. (Pandora had never really watched a tv show; she had only allowed the flashing pictures to carry her away to her own thoughts.) Vicious and malicious ideas plowed through her mind, filling her with anger and regret, but mostly hate.

Pandora felt that she had been betrayed by those she loved most: her family. Her beloved Twins had not fought for her, her own mother had not cared for her wound. Pandora had been left alone in a dungeon for three weeks, without so much as a consoling word from those she had considered closest to her heart. They had abandoned her before the Merovingian.

She thought back to nearly three weeks before, when the Merovingian had called Loki to "apologize." He had forced Pandora to stand there, with yet another knife in her face; if she had so much as made a sound, the vampire holding it would have slit her throat.  
~@~

The key turned loudly in the lock with a high-pitched scream of metal on metal as the bolt slid back into the door; the handle turned even more stubbornly, making an equally horrible noise. But neither sound could compare to the truly ear shattering shriek as the door opened. It didn't bother Pandora very much, but she knew that it would have hurt other people's ears.

"You're free to go," the vampire grunted.

She stepped out of the little room, her white gloved hands sitting gracefully on her white, wire framed skirt. She was dressed in an early Victorian style, simply because she felt like being dainty. The vampire did not hold the door open, nor did he attempt to show the little girl any form of respect. Pandora growled at him, a seemingly childish thing to do, but when one has had nothing to do for three straight weeks, one will find methods of entertainment. It was obviously a good one, for it seemed to frighten the vampire just enough to make him move back an extra step and treat the girl with a fraction of gentlemanliness. He was also surprised at her clothes. She had been wearing black three weeks ago…

~MnI~  
And here, dear readers, the story ends… 

Gotcha. I'm not _that_ mean. Life in the Chateaux is about to return to normal—well, as normal as it can get with a six-year-old tyrant. Especially one who's about to turn nine… (oh. foreshadowing. oh.)


	8. Trick or Treat

A/N: And now, some filler before the new story arch begins. It's Halloween and guess who's going to take our dear little Pan tot-ing? One and Two of course! (And Sephone and Mero …) Enjoy!

Pandora the Brave (or.. Pandora the )  
Chapter Halloween (or 8)

"Mon cher, s'il vous plaît, vous n'étés pas furieux contre moi. Je t'aime, mais je s'aime aussi. Elle est ma fille, et je se soucie Pandora. Vous comprendrez, non?" Persephone crooned, fussing with the Merovingian's tie. He swatted her hands away and began fussing with it himself.

"Mais 'Sephone, ça m'est égal!" he retorted, craning his neck as he straightened the unruly _­cravate_. "Elle n'est pas tu fille vrais. Je ne suis pas plus important de fille a tu?"

"Elle n'est qu'une fille!"

"So?"

"Je vous aime les deux. I love you both."

"Bon," he huffed, pouting.

(And all of that en anglais… My love, please, do not be angry with my. I love you, but I love her also. She is my daughter and I must take care of Pandora. You understand, no? … I don't care. She isn't your real daughter. Am I not more important to you? … She's only a girl!)  
~@~

"Open this door, dammit!" One yelled, slamming his fist onto the white wood.

"Never!" Pandora shrieked from inside.

"Don't make us come in there," One threatened.

"It doesn't matter," Pandora snapped. "You couldn't if you tried."

One motioned to Two, who quickly tried to phase through the wall, but found he could not.

"Ha! Told you!"

"Look, kid, if you don't open this door right now, we're gonna break it down and break your arm," One said.

_Uh… Not really, right?_

_Yes, really._

"NOW PANDORA!"

"NO!"

"Keh. We're coming in." One stepped back from the door and threw himself at it. It shuddered but held fast. Pandora shrieked.

One snapped at Two, "Help us."

Together, they proceeded to break down the door. They didn't get far, however, as Pandora had placed most of her bedroom furniture in front of it. She simply sat on her bed, shrieking with her pillow on her head, covering her ears.

"We're giving you to the count of .01 to open this sodding door and get out of your bloody room before we are forced to become violent."

"Oh, like you're not violent already."

"That's it, you brat! Open this door or so help us, we'll—"

"You'll what? Tell that fat-headed frog that his pseudo-daughter won't come out of her room? He'd laugh and say, "Let he stay there," in the language of the day. Bastard that he is."

"Watch your mouth, young lady. A six-year-old should not be talking that way."

"I'm almost nine!"

"Yeah … whatever… WHAT?!"

"I'm turning nine soon. Not that you care."

"Not that we care? What the—what is wrong with you? Just open this door, dammit! Let us in!"

"No! Traitors!"

"Traitors?"

"You know exactly what I mean, One. Go away and take your wimpy brother with you."

"Wimpy?" Two yelled. "Wimpy? We'll show you wimpy you little brat. You don't know what we went through for you!" He pulled out a machine gun, popped the safety and began firing at the lock.

Pandora shrieked again, and covered her head in her pillow.

"Damn, she's like a banshee…" One muttered.

Two tossed the machine gun away, grabbed an r.a.p.d. (randomly-appearing-power-drill) from his trenchcoat, and began to attack the doorknob. Shouting over the noise he said, "Pandora. Open. This. Bleeding door. Right. Now. Or. We're. Shaving. Your head."

"No!"

"Yes!" One shouted back.

"No!"

"Yes!" the Twins shouted together.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"YES!"

Silence. They heard some strange sounds as if large pieces of furniture were being rearranged, and the lock clicking. The door slowly opened. They stepped inside, and the door instantly slammed closed, nearly smashing Two. A white blur leapt out from behind them and landed on the bed.

"Now tell us what your problem is or we're going to get ugly," One demanded.

"How could you possibly get any uglier? Your head's all weird."

Two held One back. "We promised that we wouldn't kill her today. Calm down please," he pleaded.

Hissing, One complied. Two asked, "Now tell us, please. Why have you been avoiding us?"

Pandora crossed her arms, stuck her nose in the air, and looked away.

"If you don't tell us, we're not going to be happy with you. We'll walk away and leave you alone, and we won't ever come back."

"You'd come back alright. You're just like some stupid dog."

This time One had to restrain Two. "Don't let her get under our skin, bro. She's not worthy of our talents. Don't waste our time."

"Talents? You two couldn't fight your way out of a paper—AUGH!" Pandora shrieked as the Twins pounced on her.

Persephone only happened to be walking nearby when she heard Pandora's screech, and she rushed to her room to find the Twins beating her up. "What is going on in here?" she demanded, snatching at one of their collars.

"Damn brat."

"She insulted us."

"Oh you're such big babies." Pandora smirked. "All three of you." The Twins smiled evilly. "Now, come to breakfast."

"Fine," Two mumbled, shuffling out the door.

"Fine," One muttered, trailing behind his twin.

"What.ever," Pandora huffed, stomping out after them.

Persephone smiled her motherly smile, watching her daughter follow the two down the hall, fighting with them. She had not really known them before little Pandora had come. Persephone's only interactions with them had been at the restaurant, and there she had taken them for ruthless, brainless assassins. She had taken all of her husband's body guards that way. Of course she had, she had never seen them 'off-duty.' Now she'd seen the Twins looking after a girl. She'd seen a different side of them that seemed to give them …colour, dare she say it. If they had been younger, she might have thought of them as nephews or something. And then Persephone shook her head; she was being silly. Programmed hunters did not do anything but follow orders. The snide little voice in her head scoffed. _Oh, but you saw them. They asked you to help them break her out. That was certainly against orders._ Persephone sighed. Her conscience was right. They were programs, true, but they could think, too. It was very confusing to her, and she simply shook her head to clear it and continued down the hall. Philosophy had only ever hurt her head.

~@~

"Gimme that," Pandora said, her mouth half full with egg.

Two reached for the jelly to pass it, but One snatched it. Holding it away from them both he said, "Now ask nicely."

"Just gimme the jelly, dammit." One's eye glinted daggers. "I mean… darn it."

"Say please."

"No. way."

"Say it."

"No."

"Fine. We'll just keep the jelly for ourself."

Two interrupted, "And what? Put it on our eggs?"

One looked down at his plate. All that was left was scrambled eggs. He had already eaten his toast. "Yes," he replied, dipping his knife into the strawberry gloop that was the jelly. He smeared some on his eggs, letting jelly slide down the yellow peppered lumps.

Two's face was a mask of disgust, but Pandora said what they were both thinking. "Oh gross," she exclaimed quietly. "You're not really going to eat that, are you?"

"Yes," he answered. "Yes we are."

"Ugh," Two muttered.

One spooned the mess of yellow and red onto his fork and shoved it in his mouth. Pandora yelped, she had not really thought that he would do it.

Persephone glanced at the end of the table. Pandora and the Twins were doing something but it must not have been too disruptive. It certainly was better than the food fight they had started months ago.

Back on their end, One was creating strange combinations of food and eating them, much to the disgust of Two, and Pandora had completely forgotten about the jelly, becoming entranced in One's antics. After a particularly nasty combination (grits and mayonnaise), Pandora began making a few of her own, putting ketchup on her strawberries. (A/N: this. is. disgusting. it has been done, don't try it. i'm warning you.) Two, who had been enjoying the safe distance from his Twin, was repulsed when his nearest neighbor, Pandora, began to imitate him. Two had been sickened by the eggs, but the grits and the strawberries were churning his insides. 

"We are being revolting. Pandora, don't encourage us," he said, trying to concentrate on buttering his toast. He set it down, and while he was looking for the marmalade, One dumped a r.a.p.t.s. (randomly-appearing-package of-taco-seasoning) all over his toast. After smothering the bread in marmalade, Two took a huge bite out of the toast, sending the other two into fits of barely stifled laughter. 

"What is it?" Two asked, after carefully swallowing.

"Taco seasoning," One coughed.

"WHAT?!" Two shouted, jumping to his feet. Realizing that the Merovingian had fixed his beady eye on him, Two sat down. He glared at his brother, narrowing his eyes till Pandora had thought that he was asleep.

_We didn't just say the we put_ taco. seasoning. _on our food, did we?_  
_No. We just said taco seasoning._  
_We put taco seasoning on our toast?!_  
_Maybe._  
_Wha-uh-hey!_  
_Heh heh.. but only a little._  
_Don't we love us?!_  
_That doesn't stop us from picking on us._  
_We only pick on us 'cause we can be boring._  
_Boring? Us? Hah! We aren't a chicken like we are._  
_Hey! We—_

Pandora poked Two in the arm. Two looked away, not finishing his thought. "What?" he growled.

"You looked like you were sleeping. I thought that I'd wake you up."

"Fine. Just. Don't bother us right now. We're busy," Two snapped, turning back to his argument with One. He missed the fraction of a second in which Pandora looked sad. She quickly brightened, finished her strawberries (with sugar; the ketchup one was left half eaten on the side of her plate), and left. She tapped Persephone on the arm and asked to be excused.

"Of course, dear. Do what you like."

"I need a key, though."

"There's one in my purse."

"Is that under your chair?"

"Yes, yes. Please, honey, mommy's talking."

Pandora muttered darkly, as she pulled a key out of the purse, "Yeah. Whatever. Traitor."  
~@~  
Back in her room, Pandora played absently with her dolls, thinking dark thoughts. She felt as if nobody loved her, as if nobody cared about her, and worse, that they all hated her. Which she didn't realize was impossible. But she didn't realize that, and she sat on her bedroom floor, playing with her dolls, and thinking depressing things. She didn't know that on the other side of the house, One, Two, and Persephone were plotting.  
~@~

"She said soon," Two said, "But she didn't say when."

"Alright. Well, we'll just have to be ready," Pandora shrugged.

"Yes. And it's almost Halloween," One pointed out.

"Oh no. Oh no, no, no. There is no way the Merovingian will let me take her trick-or-treating," Persephone moaned.

"What?"

"Trick.or.treat.ing?

"Yes, of course! The children dress up in costumes and go door to door and get candy! Older kids go, too, but they go out usually to scare the little ones."

"WE'LL TAKE HER!!" both Twins shouted at once, a single burst of joy passing between them.

_Candy…_ thought Two.

_Frightening little children…_ One snickered mentally.

"Boys," Persephone cautioned, "I don't know what you're thinking, but it scares me. Just, when you go buy your costumes, please, don't forget to get her one, too, okay? And check out the party decorations, as well. We need to find some good ones."

The Twins weren't really listening, and they bounded out the door so gleefully that Persephone was worried, but only for a moment. They acted the same way when they were sent on particularly difficult or dangerous assignments, or when they were going out for weapons. Persephone could only hope that they dressed… decently. Ooze monsters would certainly not go over well in a neighborhood filled with little children.  
~@~

The Twins cruised up to the party supply store, parking deftly in a handicapped place. If anyone cared to threaten them, they would deal with severe pain—er, consequences. Once inside, they each grabbed a basket and moved along the aisles, dropping all sorts of random items into their carts. The Twins had a unique way of shopping: put everything you think you like into your cart and then sort through it at the end. It was a real nuisance to store clerks, but it worked for them. After collecting a fair amount of party decorations, they moved to the Halloween section, scanning always for the perfect costume. They split up, Two moving down the children's aisle, One taking to the horror aisle.  
~@~

One sighed heavily. There was not a single decent costume in the store. The latex just wasn't real enough. Well, there was the one truly gruesome costume he had found, but it was black. Black was just so… cliché. As he turned to search out his brother, he saw it. The Special Edition Deluxe Mad Scientist. It was perfect. Bulging eyes, frothing chemicals, bloody cuts, and best of all, a white lab coat. Laughing like a deranged man, he picked it up, the only package, and strolled away, all too pleased with himself, to find Two.  
~@~

There were pirates and mermaids, princesses and knights, Disney characters and classic monsters, cowboys and Indians, flappers and ballerinas, but nothing that Two could see little Pandora wearing. He had seen witches and ghouls, vampires and demons, faeries and angels, swap monsters and snake women. Frustrated, he spun on his heel and decided to find a costume for himself, and there before him, surrounded in the white light of heaven stood: the Deluxe Voodoo Shaman! And then, like divine providence, a thought struck his mind; they could go as a shaman, a zombie, and a voodoo doll. The doll would of course be Pandora, and One, Two decided, could be the shaman. He snatched the costume off the wall and stalked away to find his brother.  
~@~

_Well, what do we think?_

_That costume…_

Two waited silently for him to continue.  
_Is so awesome!_  
Two sighed with relief.  
_Although… it's not white.  
So?  
So… well… We suppose…  
_One pulled out the headdress. He looked it over and placed it experimentally on his head.  
_No… we'd look better in it. We want to be the zombie!_

_Alright… we'll let us be the zombie…_

_Let us? We are the eldest, therefore we can't 'let us' do anything!_

_Sorry… we just wanted to be the zombie._

_No way! We want to be the zombie, we can scare more little children!_

_Alright, alright… _Two relented. He had wanted to be the zombie, but he decided to let his brother be the gruesome ghoul.   
~@~

They left the party supply store with black hair spray, several colors of body paint, the Deluxe Voodoo Shaman costume, six or so bottles of fake blood, four giant pins, fake skin pieces, glue, and some birthday decorations. When they returned to the chateau, they turned the decorations over to Persephone, and began to prepare a zombie costume for One.

~@~

"What's a voodoo doll?" Pandora asked. "What's 'halloween'?"

"Uh…" Two began. He was trying to think of a way to explain it, and, failing, he asked, "Us, how would we explain this?"

"Sure whatever, take the car," One replied, entranced in his Gameboy Advance.

"Us?"

"Wha-at?" One said, turning as the screen flashed 'Game Over.'

"What were we doing? We didn't ask for the car," Two said, half-confused.

One answered, "Oh yeah… that. We.uh. Nevermind. What did we ask us?"

Pandora asked, "What's a voodoo doll? And what's 'halloween'?"

Two answered the first question, having given up on his brother and turning to his trusty pocket dictionary. "Voodoo doll. Noun. A doll used in voodoo rituals, believed by to have magickal power over another person that make things happen to him or her, such as headaches, broken bones, etc, and is controlled by sticking pins into different parts of the dolls body."

"Okay… Whatever. But what's 'halloween'?"

"OH!" cried One. "Halloween is awesome! You dress up, go door-to-door, get candy, and scare the pants off little kids!! It's called Trick-or-Treating. If the people don't give you candy, you get to play a trick on them."

"Cool," Pandora exclaimed. "What's it like? Have you ever done it before?"

One's face fell slightly, and he mumbled, "Not really…"

"Wonderful! We can do it for the first time together!"

There was a pause, as the three sat, happily saying nothing, Two thinking of candy, One thinking of monsters, and Pandora thinking of both. Finally, she broke the silence, "Where are we gonna Trick-or-Treat? There're no other houses around here."

~@~

"Alright, we're gonna use this key to get to a neighborhood with candy," Two declared. The three were sitting in the living room, with a game running on the huge plasma screen. Two had just returned from a short meeting with Persephone, who had given him the key.

Pandora looked it over, curious. "How is that gonna get us there?"

"It goes to a shed," One answered. "We come out of the shed, go Trick-or-Treating, and use the house key to come home."

"Okay, cool," Pandora said, returning to her stitching.

"Really, what are you doing?" Two asked.

"I'm making a doll."

"A voodoo doll?" One asked, curious.

"Yeah," Pandora replied. It was very rudimentary; made from scrap cloth and shaped like a stick-person, it was still inside out. Pandora, knowing no special or strong stitches, was whip-stitching the doll together. (A/N: hi, ya'll. it's me again. yeah, i figured that i'd tell you: a whip-stitch is really simple; one sticks the needle through the cloth on one side, pulls it through, brings the needle around, and sticks it back through the one side. The stitch is then repeated. The one good thing about it is that you don't have to put them close together. You know those bunny hand puppet things that little girls make, the ones in the toy stores? That weird stitch is a whip-stitch. This is important. Pandora can't really sew. *bows* thank you.) The Twins watched for a while before turning back to the tv and playing a video game. Eventually, Pandora had nearly gotten all the way around the doll, and she pulled some lint out of her pockets.

"Two, do you have any lint?" she asked.

He paused the game. "Lint?" he asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, like in your pockets."

"I guess…" he jammed his hand down into his pockets, all of them, pulling bits of fluff and lint out; he passed them to her. One looked from the small pile of fuzz to the little doll (that was hardly bigger than his finger); he pulled some lint from his pockets, too, and handed them to Pandora. The pile was still not large enough to fill the tiny doll, and Pandora bit her lip for several seconds, the Twins watching her intently to see what she would do.

Pandora slipped a hand behind the couch cushion and pulled a handful of stuffing out. She added it to the pile, and, deeming it satisfactory, turned the doll inside out and began to stuff it.

She tried to stitch the side together, but it wouldn't work and she got so frustrated that she threw the doll across the room with a shout, and it fell behind a couch against the wall. (a/n: and that was one long, grammatically incorrect sentence)

~@~

Two the shaman stood in the cool fall air, shivering slightly. It was cold, and his costume left his ripped chest quite bare. (a/n: *smiles sweetly* oh, you knew it was coming…) He had sprayed his dreads black and was wearing the headdress proudly. He didn't have to worry about being embarrassed for two reasons: one, he would never come back to this neighborhood, and two, he was wearing a skull mask. He had faux fur scraps tied around his biceps, one with a little shield, the other dangling with beads. Fur leg warmers and straw sandals had replaced his white leather boots, and his paper white skin was now a tan brown—thanks to several layers of paint. In one hand, he carried a turtle shell rattle, in the other, a can of "Silly String." He had yet to discover what it really was.

The zombie was wearing a suit. An Armani suit, perfectly disheveled and making One look exactly as if he had fought his way free from the grave, was covered in a fine layer of dust, to add to the creepy, "freshly dead" feel to the costume. Without the Merovingian's permission (of course without it, permission would have destroyed the adrenaline rush of stealing it), the Twins had frayed, soiled, and cut a brand new suit. All of the "adjustments" had helped One fit into the man's scrawny clothes. Scrawny rat of a man… Ironically, One's candy bag was the very same bag he had snatched with the suit inside.

Dripping fake blood, Pandora looked quite gruesome, and although she was loathe to hold Two's hand the whole time, she looked as if she could not move on her own. She had four needles "stuck" in her; in reality, they had been attached with glue and latex. Around her shoulders, she had draped a black messenger bag, intending to fill it to the brim with candy.

Together, the three made a perfect joint costume. As they Trick-or-Treated, the attracted some second glances from mothers. However, Two was lording his superior costume over everyone, playing the part perfectly. Occasionally he would yell "voodoo" curses at people, wave his rattle in their faces, send his zombie after cynical teens, and threaten people with his voodoo doll. They went from house to house, collecting more candy than Two had ever imagined existed.

~@~

"489!" Pandora cried triumphantly.

Two shouted, "HA! We beat you! We have 491!"

"Hey… that's my candy apple!" Pandora accused.

"What?" Two asked, bewildered. He looked down. Next to his hand sat a candy apple. "This? No, it's ours…"

"Na-uh! You didn't get one! That lady said you were too old for candy!" she protested, snatching for her treat.

Two deftly slipped the apple away, and smiling, he said, "You must have dropped it. Finders keepers!"

"Wull, fine, keep it! I don't like nuts anyways… But you can't count it as yours!"

"It doesn't matter, we still win. 490 is more than 489!"

"Oh yeah?" Pandora argued. "Well take this!" She gobbled up a piece of Two's candy.

"Wha," Two sputtered. "Hey! That was mine!"

"Yummy.. It tasted good, too."

"Why you—" Two began, grabbing for Pandora.

"Tsk, tsk, brother," One's voice echoed from the shadows. "Have one of our pieces. We have plenty."

Two caught the Bit O'Honey in his left hand and added it to his pile. "How many do we have?"

"14,387."

"NA-UH!" Pandora shrieked.

"Come count 'em, if you like," One said maliciously.

Pandora submitted, "No, no… That's okay. I trust you. (I think.)"

"We only have that many cuz we STOLE it from those little kids!" Two protested. "That shouldn't count!"

"Two," Pandora whispered. "Let's leave him alone; he's scaring me."

"We don't scare ourselves, but whatever…"

And they ate their candy, and there was much rejoicing. There was also much candy stealing. Mostly on the parts of Two and Pandora. Seeing as how One had some fourteen thousand pieces of candy.  
~MnI~  
*heavy sigh* I worked so hard to post this you guys… please please please review!! Oh yes, and expect more soon, I'm having way too much fun to stop!

Notes from the orange of doom, who is threatening us—I mean me—with tensaiga:

It's true.  I can see them, the messengers of the underworld.  It's time to test Tensaiga's power!  *bludgeons MnI, who is used to this by now*  But, since we're dressing up as the Twins tonight, we're actually bludgeoning us, which makes things interesting (If the Twins got into a fight, would that count as masochistic behavior?  We wonder…)  Anyway, we're here to advertise our own crazy fanfic, the Spork of Power, which is much more insane.

*MnI stands behind orange-sama making snide comments*

OoD: That really wasn't necessary, us.

MnI: We're incompetent.  And be we, I mean you.

OoD: But you're the one who's hung up on Two.  At least MY obsession isn't a total...I don't know, non-intelligent person.

Two: *sobs*  We feel so unloved.

One: Why do we have to act so stupid at times like these?


	9. Nitrous Oxide

A/N: Guess what y'all? I was the gaffer in this year's fall play. (funny, i failed to mention that before…) anyways, for two weeks I had no free time, but had nothing to do. i mean, my part in the play consisted of me moving a light around for, oh say, thirty or so seconds. and I had to sit, in a very uncomfortable place, mind you (although it was quite high, which was nifty) for half of the play, with nothing to do. so, anyways… story. But first, an anecdote from play practice (or, cue practice) novo (our director) added a comedic scene. Guess what that means? The actors (as in all of them) get to run around the stage for two straight minutes to some blue grass ditty. Its awesome. especially since right now (er, when this was written), they're running around stupidly and falling over the steps and junk. it's so so so so sooooo funny. and i've come up with some great gags for this next bit of story. Nifty, eh? YOHOHOHOHO! Pass me the rum! (or coke… whichever…) yes, and I apologise for the atrocious formatting.  
Kit19: gotta love sweet, gotta love juicy fruit. Sorry that was random. Hehe, thanks so much. You have no idea how much your liking it means to me. (no sarcasm, honest). Two's the awesomest ever! For Halloween, we burned marshmallows in the front yard. It was fun. And we also watched anime till 4 am. It was awesome.   
Matrix-Twin1: wai! Thanks a bunches! Hope you like this one, too. I call it *artistic arm waving* Nitrous Oxide….  
Enjoy, and review. (that means you Jennifer, or thou shalt be called freshman for the rest of your life, got it?)

Pandora the Brave  
Chapter 9

"Mummy…" Pandora mumbled, rubbing her jaw. "Mummy, my mouth hurts."

"Yes dear," Persephone replied as she feverishly scratched her pen across the page.

"Mummy. My mouth. It hurts."

Persephone looked up. "Your mouth hurts?" she asked. "Come here, honey, let me see it." Pandora shuffled closer and opened her small mouth; Persephone looked inside and quickly uttered a small sound of surprise. "I must call the dentist. Go ask one of those Twins for some bourbon. Don't eat any more candy."

"I don't have anymore."

"What? Halloween was only two nights ago."

"Uh… No comment?" Pandora said innocently, shrugging.

Persephone looked her in the eye, hard, but only said, "Alright."

~@~

Pandora walked through the rooms, aimlessly it seemed, for all but herself would not have seen the purpose in her steps. She moved quietly, slowly enough to be taken for leisurely, while she made her way to the suite that belonged to her Twins. As she neared their suite, she heard a peculiar noise. It was something between a train wreck and a screaming child. 

Worried, Pandora ran forward and slammed her small weight onto the door. The pandemonium became so loud she doubted her beloved Twins would hear her. What in the heck was going on in there?

Pandora clawed at the doorknob frantically and was surprised when it opened easily. She threw it and herself into the room and was thoroughly shocked to see

One headbanging with a guitar, wait, playing a guitar? One played the guitar? And Two? Two with a drumset?

No. Way.

It certainly was a sight to see. The Twins, sophisticated killers, rocking with an electric guitar and a drumset. And suddenly they stopped.

"What do you want?" they said in unison.

Pandora simply stood with her mouth hanging open, rocked to her core.

"Well?" asked One.

"Or are you going to stand there?" asked Two.

"I, I, I…" Pandora began. 

"Yes?" they demanded. One put away his guitar and moved around towards the bar to pour himself a drink. Two stepped around the couch and, leaning on it, watched Pandora.

"I, uh, that is to say, Persephone, I mean that, I—" she stammered.

"Spit it out!"

"Do you have any bourbon?"

"Bourbon?" One asked, raising an eyebrow behind his sunglasses and lifting a glass to his lips.

Two smirked and rapped Pandora on the head with his knuckles, saying, "What's a little girl like you doing wanting bourbon? You're still underage, you know."

Pouting, Pandora said, "Yeah well, I don't want any! Stupid Persephone told me to get some from you two idiots. Now give me some so I can leave!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down, brat," One chided. "Why are we supposed to give you bourbon? In order to give you some, we need to know how to give it to you."

"Whatever, loserbutt. I have a toothache and I need bourbon!"

Two sniggered and One prepared a cottonball, leaving Pandora to stand quietly. She got bored as One dug around in the bar for something, and she began to tap her foot. Two caught the beat and began adding strange flourishes with his mouth and his hands; irritating Pandora, who tapped her foot faster. Two only quickened his pace, which aggravated Pandora even more, but One finished soaking the cottonball in bourbon before she could shriek or yell in defiance.

One walked over to Pandora and handed her the cottonball.

"What the hell is this, and what the hell do I do with?" demanded a revolted Pandora. She held the cottonball delicately between her finger and thumb as if it were infected.

One glared. "It is a cottonball."

"Soaked in bourbon."

"Stick it on the tooth that hurts."

"And don't suck on it," Two finished. "Wanna play Mario Kart?"

"Don't you have a decent game console?" snapped Pandora. She winced and slid the cotton into her mouth, making a face at the sweet but sour liquor.

"We could always play Star Wars: Old Republic," offered Two.

"God, you're such a dork, Two," Pandora said.

Offended, Two snapped, "You're a stupid brat with no friends!"

One said, dully and uninterested, "Get out."

"Fine! I hate you!" Pandora yelled as she slammed the door.  
~@~  
The next day, Persephone informed the Twins that they would be taking Pandora to the dentist's office. When they arrived, Pandora was very uneasy about the nurses, nervously chewing on something in her mouth.

Exasperated by her gnawing, One finally asked, "What the hell is in your mouth?"

"The bourbon," Pandora mumbled in reply. She bit her lip and looked around warily. Two shook his head in amazement.

_Geez… Her mouth must really be hurting if she had that all day yesterday._  
_Or maybe she's to proud to ask us for another._

Eventually, the nurses took her away, and the two were left to their own devices. They waited patiently for about thirty minutes before Two began to get very, very bored.

_We're going to play rock, paper, scissors. Okay?_

_Whatever._  
_Paper. Scissors. Rock._  
They both had rock.  
_Paper. Scissors. Rock._  
They both had rock.  
_Paper. Scissors. Rock._  
They both had rock.  
_Paper. Scissors. Rock._  
They both had rock.  
_Paper. Scissors. Rock._  
They both had rock.  
_Paper. Scissors. Rock._  
They both had rock.  
_Paper. Scissors. Rock._  
They both had rock.  
_Paper. Scissors. Rock._  
They both had rock.  
_Paper. Scissors. Rock._  
They both had rock.  
_Paper. Scissors. Rock._  
They both had rock.

Flustered and frustrated, One turned away and began picking at the hem on his trenchcoat. Two attempted to continue the game for several minutes before giving up, after which he tried to figure out how he and One had been unable to play. He got bored with that and scoped out a pen. He found on sitting on the receptionist's desk. Hesitant, he stood and made his way over to the counter, thankful that the woman had waddled away. Casually, he dropped his arm to the other side of the desk and snagged a pen. Smiling widely, he sauntered back over to One and plopped down, showing off the pen as if it were the teacher's chalk.

One rolled his eyes. _What are we going to do with that?_

_Tic Tac Toe._

_Really now? Do we have paper? We didn't think so._

Two smiled and laid his left leg across his knee, giving him easy access to the rubber sole of his boot. He quickly drew a board on the toe and handed the pen to One, who rolled his eyes again. He placed an X in the left hand corner. Two put an O in the center. One put an X in the lower left corner. Two put an O in the center left. One put an X on the other side of the O, prompting Two to place an O beneath the X. One then put an X next to the O and the game was cat's.

Two quickly drew another board, again handing One the pen. X in the center. O in the upper left. X in the lower right. O in the upper right. X in the top center. O in the bottom center. X in the lower left. Cat's game.

This time One drew the board and handed Two the pen. O in the right center. X in the upper left. O in the lower right. X in the upper right. O in the top center. X in the center. O in the lower left. X in the bottom center. Cat's game.

The next four games were cat's games, frustrating Two so much he scribbled the last one out and threw the pen to the floor. One picked it up and made a hangman board on his right shoe.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_F_

F _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_O_

F o _ _ _ _ _ o

_forty-two_

Two drew out the next game.

_ _ _ _

_A_

_ _ _ _

_lynx_

One drew out the next game.

_ _ _ _ _ _

_E_

_ _ e _ _ _

_French_.

The games went quickly with only one or two guesses before beginning a new one.

~@~

The nurse gently sat Pandora in a chair. She looked around uneasily as the nurse busied herself with a tray full of *gulp* metal tools.

"Alright, dearie," the nurse crooned. "Lie down and pick a flavor."

"Cherry," Pandora replied uneasily.

"Excellent choice," the nurse crowed, procuring a small red mask. She placed it over Pandora's nose and attached several tubes to it. "Now just breathe regularly," she instructed, turning on the gas. Almost instantly, Pandora felt her heart fluttering. Within minutes, she felt … estranged from her body. The word… detached… floated across her brain… No real thought… There were gray spots around the light… Millions of little spots, gathering around the light… Someone was talking somewhere above her… or was that below her…. Pandora ignored the voice until—

"Dearie, wake up," commanded the nurse. "The dentist is here. Just open your mouth and if you feel any pain, raise your right hand. Do you understand me?"

Pandora tried to answer, but all she could do was nod. The little spots were dancing… little gray spots… dancing around the light… they could be faeries… pretty faeries… faeries are kind of like elves… elves are neat… they have pointy ears… pointy ears like santa claus… hobbes once pretended to be santa… he wrote hate mail to calvin… calvin once sent susie a ransom note… the agents had sent a ransom note for her… they had such shiny sunglasses… shiny shiny… shiny sunglasses… shiny twiny sunglasses… pretty white twins… Suddenly her mouth was ablaze with searing white-hot pain. Pandora wanted to scream, to run. Where were the Twins? They could save her. The pain escalated. What would they do? What would they do? Two would bear it out. It hurt too much… But it seemed to be fading, fading… Fading away, like some nightmare… like the agents did… in her dreams… fading away into darkness… sweet surrender.. sweet dangerous darkness…

_Hello, Pandora._

Someone was talking to her… Pandora struggled to open her eyes, but something held them shut. Something, something…

_Calm down. You're not in danger. You're safe._

_Safe… safe where…_ Pandora thought.

_No one can get you as long as you're here…_

_Where's here…_

_I need to show you something important._

It was a woman's voice. Sweet and kindly, old and young, strong and peaceful, naïve and wise. The mad hatter was wise… the caterpillar was wiser… the cat was wisest… the rabbit was creepy.    tea parties with madmen… tea is good… chai is best…

_Pandora. Pay attention_.

Attention… that's spanish for warning… like a wet floor sign… those are yellow… like street signs…the twins drive… they drive an escalade… a pretty black escalade…

_Pandora. This is no time for your games. By your own hand has a disease infected this planet, and by your own hand will it be cured—_

_--be reasonable! No idiot would fall for that, not even her, _snapped a second voice. 

Pandora wanted to laugh, but she couldn't move.

_Pandora, your curiosity unleashed a program capable of catastrophic destruction. The punishment for this crime is simple: you will complete the Arc of Souls and end the countdown._

_That's what I said! 'Cept you were, less cryptic.and all. Um_.

"Dearie," the nurse called, from a far and distant land. "Dearie, I'm turning off the gas. You'll be right as rain momentarily."

~MnI~

woooooooo! I'm so happy, oh so happy! I went to a con and I got lotsa junk! and fake pocky that's not real pocky, but I'm so desperate for pocky that I tolerate the fake pocky woooooooooooo! *cough* yay for randomness! yay for plot movement! yay for idiots! Wait.

Hehe. Luv ya'll,  plz review! I spent a while writing up these five pages. Although most of them are pointless blather about bored games, etc. anyways. Don't you think I deserve some encouragement? *pleading looks all around* could I bribe you with virtual pocky?


	10. That Game

a.n: high on pocky. sorry for the inconvenience. I LOVE POCKY! augh! Sorry, had to get that out of my system. okay. And now…. There will be more rock star twins. I thought it was too damn funny to pass up. Have fun children, and don't forget to review.

d.c: we've been through this before people, i don't get any money off this nor do i own the matrix. although if i somehow tricked the Wachowskis into leaving it to me in their wills, and I killed both of them, then I would own it. But that takes too much effort and I'm too lazy. So. I don't own it.

White Striped Skittle: wow. That has to be the funnest review in the history of reviews. Glad you liked it. The paper scissors rock was partially from the play at my school. Nitrous… you gave me an idea. wai!

Kit19: pocky is only the best sweet candy type food ever. Its Japanese and reeeally hard to find. I'm sorry about making you laugh so hard. I'll be more careful this time and like put up warnings. Hehe. jp. Glad you liked it so much. 

Audrey A: hehe! Thanks so much! This isn't nearly so funny, but… well, you'll see.

Pandora the Brave

Chapter Ten (ooooooooo)

"So you're telling us that a voice told you you were curious and gonna be punished?" Two asked.

"Yes!" cried Pandora. "For the thousandth time, yes!"

One snorted. "You have got to be kidding us!" he choked out between laughs. Slapping his leg, he said, "Look, shortie. You were drugged up on laughing gas the whole time. You were high. High as a dove! There's no way a voice would say that to you, of all people!"

Pandora sputtered, angry at the insult. "Yeah," she challenged. "Well, you're… You're just jealous!"

"Whatever. It's our turn to deal," Two said.

"Well, we would need to cards, now wouldn't we?" One snapped.

Pandora sighed and scooted closer to the marble coffee table and asked, "What are we gonna play?"

"Dunno," answered Two.

One said, "What ever game we deal. How 'bout that, idiot?"

Pandora nodded, not taking her eyes off the deck as One shuffled. "Sounds good to me," she agreed.

"I'm not an idiot!" Two cried.

Pandora said dully, "No one said you were."

"What? But—" Two sputtered.

One began to deal the cards. He laid three cards face down in front of each of them and three cards face up on top of those. Then he dealt three cards to each player, set the stack in the center and flipped the one card over.

"So," said Pandora. "Nines are reverse?"

"Yeah," replied One.

Two looked confused. "Wait… What are we playing?"

Pandora rolled her eyes, fiddling with her hand. "Idiot," she sighed. Playing a six on the four.

"That game," said One. "We're playing that game."

"What game?"

"That game," answered Pandora.

"Huh?"

"Look, us, we're playing That Game. Idiot, A Game, Stupid, etc. The many names of That Game," supplied One. "Now, play something higher than a six or a two."

Two looked puzzled. "But why a two?" he asked.

"Twos drop the deck to zero, tens clear the deck, nines reverse the order of turns," said Pandora. "The object is to get rid of all your cards. You have to keep three cards in your hand at all times until the draw pile is gone. Twos, tens, and aces beat everything. Fours beat threes, fives beat fours, sixes beat fives, sevens beat sixes, and so on. King over Queen over Jack. Make sense? Now go. It's your turn."

"What are these other cards for?" asked Two, motioning to the six cards lying on the table in front of him.

One said, exasperated, "We'll explain later, just GO!"

~@~

The tables had always been laid with fine linens and silver place settings. The restaurant was designed to be the most beautiful, the most perfect, the most desirable place on earth. And it was. At first, it had stunned Persephone—it had flattered her; she felt she was the luckiest woman in the world, to have a husband who would go to such lengths to make her home so magnificent. But as time wore on, the magnificence lost its glamour, and now Persephone looked upon it with disdain. It was so perfect it was daunting.

She spent so much time in thought these days that the happy chatter of the humans and exiles around her was silent to her ears. She didn't listen to them anymore. Her days were relatively melancholy. Until she thought of her daughter. But that amusement couldn't keep her here much longer. She loved Pandora, but the life she led was stifling.

Persephone suddenly remembered her PDA. She quickly pulled it out and checked it.

_So it has been six decades…_

Six, six, six… Everything around her was six. Every six months, Persephone liked to completely redecorate the house, from bright colours to dark ones and back again. Every six years, the Chateau was repainted; rooms that had black wood became white, rooms that had white wood became black. And every six decades, Persephone left. She left the Merovingian.

To find herself.

To reverse the oppressive effect the perfect life had on her.

_Why did ever, ever decide to stay here?_

Six seeds of a pomegranate, so tiny, so small… Cursed little seeds.

She would leave tomorrow. It was best to give the cook a day to get a hold of a pomegranate. 

~@~

Two had seven cards, Pandora had four, and One had two. There were no cards left in the draw pile.

~@~

The Merovingian looked down for only a fraction of a second, but when he looked up, two identical women plopped down in the chairs across from him. They wore white. One carried herself like a queen, strong, proud, and regal. She seemed to be the elder of the two. Her hair was in a low bun, messy but stylish. The other carried herself like a princess, fiery, rebellious, and mischievous. She seemed to be the younger. Her hair was in two messy buns on the sides of her head. While the elder wore a long white skirt and tank, exposing a little midriff, the younger wore a short ruffled skirt, camisole-tank, and arm warmers. They were alike, but they were different.

"Well?" the Merovingian growled. "What is it?"

They shared a glance, and the younger nearly laughed aloud. Without looking away, she said, "We know the fate of the box."

~MnI~

Wow, I'm mean. I didn't intend to leave this as a cliff-hanger, but that last sentence was just too tempting. Don't worry, I'll definitely write more in religion. Hehe. Please review!!!


	11. Revelations

A/N: yeah. it's religion class. Gotta love not paying attention :P hehe. 

D/C: i do not claim to own the matrix. however all oc's are mine and may not be used without permission. ask me before you archive this elsewhere. i won't say no, but i wanna know where its going. 

Pandora the Brave

Chapter 11

"Okay, now. You use these three cards up, then you use these. You can't look at them before you turn them over. First person to lose all their cards wins," Pandora said, playing a nine. Now it was One's turn.

~@~

"You what?" the Merovingian asked coldly.

The younger woman started laughing.

"Is this… a joke?"

"Of course not," said the older woman, Eris. "Why would we two joke about something like that?"

"Knowing your. History," said the Mero as he leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "I would not doubt zhat you might joke about zhis sort ahv sing."

"The box is serious," Ate (A'-tay), the other woman, replied. "And we have bad news."

"Really? Tell me everything you know."

"Good news is," said Eris, "We know exactly where the box is, what it does, and what's inside."

"Bad news is," finished Ate, "We know exactly where the box is, what it does, and what's inside."

The Merovingian's eyes narrowed. "Explain," demanded he.

"The box contains the program 'Nemesis,' and when you touch the box, you feel every wrong you've done to others ten-fold," Ate said knowingly.

"Vhere is it?"

"Destroyed," replied Eris calmly.

The Merovingian shrieked, "WHAT?!"

"Yo, old dude, breathe," Ate said. "There's still more bad news."

Eris continued, "The box was opened, and Nemesis was released. However, raw instinct led the opener of the box to absorb Nemesis into her code, and now the opener is the bearer of the program."

"'Ow was zhe box destroyed?" the Merovingian asked.

"Opening the box destroyed the code of the box. It's purpose was completed and it was no longer needed," said Eris. "Unlike us, the box needed no conscious thought, and it flowed back into the codes of this world."

"But the box was not important," said Ate.

"Indeed it was not, or not in the way you believed it to be."

"Mon dieu… Ai-je gaspillé tout ces heures?" the Merovingian sighed. 

"Yeah, you have," agreed Ate.

"Shut up, you!" snapped the Merovingian.

"Sorry, but it's the truth. You _have_ been wasting your time on this."

The Merovingian began to sputter with rage, but Eris spoke, "No. You haven't. We now know about Nemesis, and how we can stop her."

"Wait… vhat exactly is Nemesis?"

"You remember Rhea, don't you?" asked Eris.

"Pretend I don't," he answered.

Ate woman cried, "Rhea, who helped the Architect and the Oracle create this whole world? Rhea, who wrote the prototypes for nearly every major program? Rhea, who wrote Eris and myself? Who wrote you and your wife? Rhea?"

Eris quieted her sister as the Merovingian sighed, "Yes, I know that Rhea…"

"And you remember her betrayal?" Ate snapped.

"No, I thought she was betrayed, not the other way around," the Merovingian said. "And so what if she was? What has it got to do with me, now, six hundred years later?"

"Nemesis is a revenge program, numbskull," snapped Ate. "Geez, don't you think? I  mean, what with Rhea's obsession with the Greeks, you'd think a program named after the goddess of revenge would have something to do with vengeance, wouldn't you?"

"What do you mean, revenge program?" asked Persephone, suddenly interested.

"Come on, 'Seph… Think about it. Poor, bitter Rhea, deceived by the children she wrote... writing a program to take revenge… And what better way, than create a program version of the goddess Nemesis, who helped those with righteous vengeance?" Ate said.

"You haven't answered my question," the Merovingian said. "Why should I care about Nemesis?"

Eris answered, "Nemesis is going to dramatically change this world. We know that she's going to return Rhea's sentence on those Rhea felt wronged her. But we have a problem."

"You don't know who she's after, do you?" asked the Merovingian.

"We've complied a list of those we think Rhea wanted destroyed. The Architect and the Oracle for starters, but I think we can make do without them. But there's also Hermes, Hades, Zeus, Apollo, Terminus, Gaia, and Poseidon," said Ate, pulling out a legal pad covered in black scribbles.

The Merovingian rubbed his temples. "Remind me again what all these programs did?"

"Hermes oversees all communications, inner and outer. The ones between this world and the real world, and the ones within this world itself," Ate said.

Eris took the pad and read off the next name, "Zeus—sky. Self-explanatory. Apollo—sun. Again, self-explanatory. Gaia—earth. Think about it this way, a mountain could just pop right out of the ground where we stand, or the land could fall away into the ocean. Obviously, that's a bad thing."

Ate glanced at the sheet and said, "Terminus keeps the physical laws in order. Laws like gravity."

"Poseidon keeps the oceans from just walking away or enveloping the earth," Persephone said.

"What do you know about this?" demanded the Merovingian.

Before Persephone could answer," Ate said, "And then there's yourself, sir. Hades."

"I'm not Hades anymore," the Merovingian snapped, standing up and sending his chair flying into the wall behind him. 

"But you were," said Ate.

"I think the point they're making," Persephone said, "Is that Rhea wanted revenge on those she felt had betrayed her. Maybe she thought that we should have protected her, as her children. She made each of the first agents by hand, lovingly, if you could call it that. She took great care to make them individuals, like she did us. But they were loyal to the Architect and when he ordered her dead, they showed no qualms about deleting her. Imagine how great that betrayal, her friends _and_ her children killed her, at least in her mind."

"I don't see why I have to care about zhis 'Nemesis.' I'm not Hades anymore, so why should it matter?"

"You were still Hades when Rhea was deleted. That's all that matters," Ate said solemnly.

Eris said, "Now, we have a plan to stop Nemesis."

"Alright," the Merovingian sighed. "Go ahead. Explain it to me."

"We've already made a deal with the Mainframe," Eris began.

"And it's costing us an arm and a leg, so you better help," Ate interrupted.

"How did you talk to the Mainframe without…" began the Merovingian.

"We lied," Ate said simply. "We were never Exiles. We're still part of the system."

"We didn't lie about our jobs, though," said Eris, "I'm in charge of Discord, and she's in charge of Mischief. We're a means to keep the humans from thinking the world is too perfect."

"Wait, stop, hold it right there," said Persephone. "You two aren't Exiles, and you're supposed to make problems within the Matrix. Who says you didn't write Nemesis?"

"We have no way to prove that we can't write complex programs like her, but we can assure you: we can't. You're just gonna have to trust us," said Eris. "Now, back to the plan."

Ate said, "We're assembling seven of the nine programs we mentioned, and then some. We're asking those who we think can help the bearer beat Nemesis."

"Why do I have to come, and who is the bearer?"

Eris said, "You have to come because we're not sure what form Nemesis will take. If she's a deletion program—"

Ate interrupted, "You're going to have to use some of those Hades-skills and eliminate it."

"And the bearer is your pseudo-daughter, who we're coming to in a minute," Eris said. "Let us explain the rest of this before we explain the girl."

"First tell me one thing," said the Merovingian. He shouted, "Why did you not tell me any of this before!!"

After the patrons of the restaurant had recovered, and the typical chatter was up to its usual dull roar, the girls continued. "Because Cassie told us to, so we didn't," Eris said. "But again, that's not important."

"You look lost," Ate said. "Let me summarize. Rhea, one of the programmers for the Matrix, was unfairly deleted. Just before she died, she created a program to avenge her death and called it Nemesis. Nemesis floated around for a while and, for some reason, started to activate. Some program quickly wrote a box program to stop and contain Nemesis. This box was called Pandora's Box. It then disappeared from history. This all occurred in the first Era, before the first Anomaly."

"Now, six hundred years later," Eris continued, "Pandora's Box resurfaced. We began to track it, but by the time we got to it, someone had opened it. This was your daughter, a nameless remainder. The box program assimilated into her code, and gave her a name. However, Nemesis was released. Just as Nemesis finished activating, Pandora realized, deep within her three-year-old mind, that Nemesis was bad. Somehow, she absorbed Nemesis and has been carrying her around ever since."

"If Nemesis is contained," the Merovingian asked, "why are we trying to set it free?"

"Nemesis will break free whether we want her to or not. Now we have two choices," Eris said. 

Ate finished, "We can choose when Nemesis escapes and stop her, or we can let her escape on her own and wreak terrible havoc."

Persephone suddenly stood up. "I'm leaving," she said.

"You mustn't tell Pandora or anyone who might accidentally tell her," Ate called after Persephone's retreating form. "Pandora must not know about Nemesis, or Nemesis might break free."

~MnI~

it's stops her 'cos class is over. i promise i'll pick it up after school and post then or tomorrow. you have my word, and i've never broken my word. Please review and tell me if you like the way this is going or not. There's still time for me to stop it!!


	12. An Apostrophe

A/N: I have a feeling that I confused lots and lots of people. or whoever reads this, anyways… but, fear not! this is going to take lots of explaining, and I realized this before I began, so I hope you don't hate me ^^;; oh, and… this chapter is very, very short. I really wanted to separate the next two events, although I might smash them together later. So, I'm uploading this shortness now, at nine-ish.

Kit : I know… what is up with that game being so hard to explain? it makes perfect sense to me. Awesome name… and I meant stop the story arc, not the whole shindig. But I won't… and you can have some virtual pocky (or an éclair if you want)  
Protectress of Dalidon: thank you so much. I have tampered with the mythology, of course. Gaia was the mother of Rhea and Kronos, who were the parents of Poseidon, Zeus, Hades, Hera, Hestia, and Demeter. *deals virtual pocky*

D/C: I still don't own the matrix.

Final Notes: never fear, pan is not going to be a mary sue—for you touchy people.

Pandora the Brave

Chapter 12

Pandora sighed. She was alone and bored again.

­            "Twins, I need you to come with me. We have some very important things to discuss," Persephone had said before she even stepped all the way into the room. "Pandora, you have to go back to your room now. This is an adults-only meeting." Pandora had made every face and gesture to prevent her exclusion, but Persephone had seen none of it. She had been too busy shuffling the room into order and gathering up the cards. They hadn't even finished the game. As Persephone left with the Twins, Pandora had only barely heard her say, "You have visitors."

            Maybe she had imagined it.

            Wanting to be sure, Pandora followed them. She crept after them, hidden on the ceiling.

            "Is this about Pandora and our little jailbreak operation?" One had asked as they swiftly walked down the hallway.

            "Because we already paid for that," Two had said.

            Pandora hadn't waited for Persephone's answer. After that, she hadn't cared about whatever it was calling them away; she had completely forgotten about the mysterious visitors. All she had wanted to know was what they meant by jailbreak. Could they have tried to get her out?  
            Pandora had dropped from the ceiling, running forward to stop them. She had had tears in her eyes, she was so happy. When they told her how they had tried to break her out of the dungeon, she had actually cried, and they had all hugged. Persephone had then sent her back to her room, "for safety."

Pandora still did not understand what that meant, but it did not matter to her. She might have been bored, and she might have been alone, but she knew that her family had never forgotten her. Even though she hadn't seen it, they had always been there for her. It was like a great weight off her shoulders, to know that she was really loved. Ever since the Merovingian had locked her downstairs for three weeks, she had had the feeling that Persephone and the Twins had not really cared for her at all. Pandora was glad she was apart of a family, with Persephone as her mother and the Twins as brothers or uncles. Families were always there for one another, and she felt that she needed to be there for them, too.

Pandora rolled off her bed and crawled over to a set of shelves. She pulled out some art supplies and spread them out. She was going to make cards.

~MnI~  
Awww, it's a sappy chapter… I have my reasons. Next chapter, you'll see. And next chapter, everything will make sense, or most things at least. I have chemistry again tomorrow so I might, emphasis on might, be able to write/post. But don't ever expect me to post so often again. that was like, an anomaly. Hehe. This chapter does not do this scene justice at all, but it would be another two weeks before I posted again if I waited. I know I'm gonna regret this, but you can feel free to im me or email me and bug me into finishing chapters. Please review, they make me so happy, you have no idea. I have this little song I sing when I get reviews… hehe, and reviewers get … virtual pocky!!! yay!


	13. Intermezzo

A.N: hey guys…happy holidays and all that rot, I have a quickie announcement. I'm going on holiday for about a week, and then a week after that (or so) for about three days (to my gran's). so… to sate your thirst *cough hack* for Pandora, I give to you a completely irrelevant chapter to be called "intermission." And if you're wondering what my spare time consists of, it's writing and perfecting plot outlines from everything from Matrix fanfiction to original shit. So, I haven't abandoned this, I'm still fudging with the finer points. So, with those reassurances, I give to you the last chapter of Pandora the Brave for the year of 2003 and a promise to post a fresh plot-mover in January. Jaa ne, and happy new year! *toots horn*

D/C: if the matrix belonged to me, then you would know about it.

Kit: so have i. must. restrain. fist. of. death. GRAH TWO IS MINE! *yanks on Two's arm* and you don't remember why pan can stick to the ceiling because I haven't told you yet :P neyeah. I love that movie *sigh* tom cruise was my childhood idol.

Alison: thanks so much! I've been so bogged with stress lately that the funniness is fading, but this and the next chapter I've got outlined should prove more entertaining than these last few have been. Thanks again!

Ms. Protectress: sorry dollface, but you're just gonna have to sit tight for a bit with those cards. All I've got on them right now is string, doilies, red paper, and glitter. Glad you like!

CCC: we're all addicted. It's like a drug. And the bad mental images are gonna get worse, sweetheart, cos I have this great part with the mero actually dressed as hades! Muahahaha! And fake pocky is the hello kitty stuff. And rip-off pocky is chocolate covered pretzel stix. XD

Psychotic Fortune Cookie: look, kid, if you're going to review, please, tell me something useful. And little bits of advice you found inside a stale pastry aren't useful. I mean, knock, knock. Reviews are positive or negative feedback, not a chance to show off your specialness. Feel free to tell me that so-and-so is screwed up or that the plot's too confusing, but don't give me some b.s. about hope and faith. I'm in a Catholic school for gods's sake, and I get a bloody nough of that every freakin day. So either leave a decent review or bugger off. Twit. /rant

Cue lights…

~Intermezzo~  
a mini-fic by yours truly

It begins with a twinge, a small pang. It pulses intermittently for about an hour before it becomes a full-fledged, throbbing sore. It then spreads to cover a whole half of one's face, sending it into a piercing whirl of pain and misery. It is….

A Migraine.

With the birds chirping in the trees and the sun filtering through the red and gold leaves still clinging to their branches, the cold morning began as any other. One rose with the sun, threw on a blue satin bathrobe, and moved into his bathroom to prepare for the day. Thirty minutes later, the screeching of an alarm pierced through the rock music in Two's bedroom, forcing him to accept the inevitability of waking up. By his own damn brother's recommendation, Two had moved his alarm clock across the room, to force him to get out of bed to shut it off, and now he sincerely regretted it. Of course, he was far too lazy to actually move it back to his bedside table. After a half hour of snooze button abuse, Two finally rolled out of bed and shuffled into _his_ bathroom to begin his daily rituals.

Meanwhile in One's quarters, our beloved assassin was nearly finished dressing himself, shaved and clean. He stood in front of a mirror, adjusting his tie and straightening his vest; he was always one for perfect attire. After all, when you're going to kill someone, it costs nothing to be polite.

As One stepped from his room to attend to a small breakfast, he shut off the lights and closed the door, leaving untouched a small silver pill box containing the day's Claritin. He moved down the hall and pounded on his brother's door, three times. For a response, the music was shut off, a door shut, and Two emerged, looking like a half-dead college student, up late from exams. As he closed his bedroom door, Two slapped the light off, and began to walk down the hall.

"Ahem."

Two sighed. Shouldn't his brother be happy? At least he was dressed this time. He phased anyways and reappeared, as fresh as if he had put as much care into his appearance as One. They set off together down the hall.

At the table, One ate a small meal of toast and jam, but Two did nothing and only poked at his egg.

"Aren't we going to eat?" One asked.

Two grunted, put a spoonful into his mouth, and swallowed. He then stood up and left the room. When One slid into the car beside him, he began to lecture. "You can't just keep skipping breakfast," he started, and continued to ramble as they set off to complete the day's tasks: two hits and a transaction. _And__ about bloody time,_ thought Two.

Near lunchtime, Two had livened up. The zombie-like aura his presence had radiated was replaced with his usual demonic air, and he looked none the worse for the wear. But heaven forbid he not drink anything, as dehydration was a crime. Between hits, he endured yet another lecture from his elder brother, this time about water. Two mentally sighed and began playing with his razor—and cut his hand. He fixed it easily enough, and the day went on.

At about two o'clock, they felt it: a twinge on their cheek, under their eye. One blamed it on Two's carelessness; he had gotten a scratch there when they killed the last guy. By three, however, they both knew the truth.

They had a headache.

To which they responded with the cold shoulder, ignoring the pain because it would eventually go away, but when four o'clock rolled around, the sore had escalated into a full-out throb. It pulsed in time to their heart, as the blood that was supposed to move to their brain was instead hindered by a constricted vessel. After ten minutes of endurance, Two pulled a bottle of Dasani from under his seat, and from it he took a long drink. But there was no help to be had; the headache remained.

When they finally returned to the château, One declared, "This is our fault."

"Oh like hell it is," retorted Two. "We bet our sunglasses that we didn't take our sodding medicine."

One growled as they pulled into the garage.

~Epilogue~

They were greeted by a shriek and a white blur, Pandora. They ghosted as she tried to embrace them, but they had good reason. The high-pitched frequency of the whining and yelling that just drilled itself right into their already bruised and throbbing brains was less than appealing. Retreating to their rooms, they argued mentally, glaring and hissing at each other the whole way. Pandora followed them from a distance and was surprised to witness a strange sort of fight ending in mutual glares and slamming doors. She could only imagine what they were doing behind those closed doors. Perhaps they remained on their beds, berating each other or whatever it was that they always did.

~MnI~

and for all you curious people, this was written over two hours from 11:36 to 12:39 pm instead of completing a bleeding geometry assignment. So if it makes no sense or is awkward in places, you know why. i'm gonna run it through my beta in the morning and post it, but come on, y'all, she's in just as poor a mental state as I am. Have a safe holiday! And please review ^^ happy Christmas/Chanukah/Kwanza/Winter Solstice? (is that even close?)/other holiday/New Year!


	14. It's Chapter 13, I swear!

A.N: only that I really really like constructive criticism. And that I really dislike dealing with prepositions. Sometimes it's so tempting to leave them at the end of sentences, granting that it sounds better, in some cases.   
D.C: it's a fanfic. Of course it's not mine. (it is my writing, tho.)

Protectress: gosh, thanks pal! *handshake and goofy smile* and would convert you to the army of Twin Fangirls, but that would mean more competition, and I have enough trouble convincing kit that Two is, indeed, mine. Hehehe. And I'm still working on those cards. (not actually making them, but figuring out viable and probable notes inside them)

Kit: I'm so glad you thought it was funny because I was trying to be without actually being funny. like that makes any sense. And quit flattering me, it's unhealthy for my ego. It gets fat and overinflated. Hehe. HAPPY NEW YEAR! Oh yeah. Have you seen Scrooge? The English version from the seventies or eighties or something? There's this part in there where they mention Smith, Jones, and Brown in a song. I dunno, I thought it was funny. ^^;

Pandora the Brave

Chapter 13

The Merovingian sat in his armchair, a cigarette in one hand, a goblet of merlot in the other. He was relaxed in the great, expensive drawing room, surrounded by exterior wealth taking the forms of ancient urns, slabs of hieroglyphs, and statuettes from multitudes of civilizations. This drawing room was his own, personal and private; none but Persephone had ever been allowed to remain more than brief moments, and she herself was restricted to only necessary speech. It was the Unwritten Law.

Yet to his left, on a small couch, sat two young women, known as Eris and Ate to a privileged few. Until that very night, they had been his employees, working as spies and researchers wherever their trails led them. Like many of his detectives, they had been sent after the legendary Pandora's Box, and like many of his detectives, they had thought him quite mad. Then, by chance, memory flickered, and a lost warning from a lost friend resurfaced in their minds. So when the rest of the detectives found the trail run cold, they two managed to track it further than any had before them. They tracked it to a girl, lost her, and found her again. They were usually the last to report on a case, but they were usually the most informed. They were precise; they were efficient; they were detailed.

Eris and Ate had changed their outfits somewhere between the café and the drawing room, and were now wearing chitons and himatia, their tied hair up in fillets. Even with the artifacts around them, their Greek costume contrasted with the strictly Victorian décor. Together they sat, bored, waiting for Persephone to return. Eris felt vaguely oppressed by the splendour of the room, while her sister Ate tried to suppress urges to tip over the fragile urns.

After Eris had to snatch Ate's wrist to prevent her from vandalising the bust on the table, footsteps sounded down the hall, and the Merovingian stiffened. Persephone opened the door and stepped inside, followed by the Virii Twins. As per courtesy, the Merovingian stood until his wife sat down, and then he fell back into the chair. He was too exasperated and exhausted to notice that Ate was grinning ridiculously at one of the Twins, who was trying to ignore her. Eris was avoiding the gaze of the other, who was focusing on the carpet to avoid _her_.

But no one noticed.

"D'accords," the Merovingian sighed. "Start aht ze beginning, and don't dahre be confuszing."

~@~

It was raining, a cold rain. November winds beat upon the windowpanes, casting shadowy spots in the dreary darkness. Several dolls lay discarded on the floor; shimmers of glitter floated in the air; a pot of glue lay overturned on the carpet. A pair of scissors sat near bits of string and doily; a shoe box full of art supplies, with markers, tulle, sequins, stamps, and paint bottles spilling over the sides, stood in childlike splendor at the foot of a white, ruffled bed. In the darkness, a girl lay upon it, surrounded in satin and lace like a doll. She moved not; she breathed not. Her tight golden curls fell about her face like a halo; she was the perfect porcelain effigy of a Victorian cherub.

She blinked.

Boredom reigned in the white room, for Pandora had long since abandoned her dolls and finished her cards, and solitaire was a game left incomplete near her feet. She stared off, lost in thought, while the room sank into deeper hues of blue as evening fell. It was probably the first time in her life Pandora had entertained any truly abstract ideas. They didn't frighten her, but they were foreign, intriguing, worth dwelling on. Finally, she rose, shoving her musings away for substance, action. And what was more adventurous than exploring? In a big house like this, she could go camping. Or at least on safari. Pandora smiled. After rummaging in her trunk, she pulled out a small brown messenger bag, quickly filling it with the essentials: candle, matches, flashlight, granola bars, cards, Play-Doh knife (for protection), and markers. She looked back in the trunk and pulled out a safari helmet. Taking a moment to think, Pandora stood biting her lip before stuffing a pad of paper into the bag. She slung the messenger bag over one shoulder and pulled the hat over her curls, checking herself in the mirror. Satisfied, she scribbled a short note as to her whereabouts, picked up a thumbtack in passing, and stepped out of the room. Neatly closing the door behind her, locking it with a small brass key, and swiftly tacking her note to the door, Pandora set off down the hallway, excitement flickering in her eyes; twenty minutes after she had tucked the tiny key into a pocket of her bag, she found herself in the basement where she wandered, terrified of things shrouded in blackness, clutching her bag to her side. 

~@~

November 21, raining

I don't generally have the pleasure of entertaining guests, but today I was presented the perfect opportunity for such occasion. This evening, whilst I was engaged in the practice of stealth, although I daresay I'm by far the most talented, I encountered a most strange apparition wandering my shadowed halls. I was at first shocked by this child's audacity, but my reason took to explain for her: no doubt, she did not realize where she was. She roved these dark stone halls like child-ghost gone astray, and I could nearly smell the fear at her own loneliness and her fear at the darkness creeping closer pouring off her. Precious child. I sought to bring her to my quarters, for there I could properly receive guests, but upon sighting me the dear bird tore down the hall, shrieking like the banshee I now take her to be. I suppose that should I have been more direct in my approach, instead of taking her shoulder. How could my people skills have diminished so? I used to be a wonder in the arts of human entertainment.

--Vlad

~@~

After a looming giant had tried to eat her, Pandora had fled, shrieking. As she had run, she had encountered more shadows, these with gleaming fangs and dripping claws. She turned down a corridor and sprinted to the door at its end. Throwing it open, she flew up the stairs, aware of thousands of evils snapping at her heels. Her child's imagination had cooked up a great multitude of horrors to yearn for her flesh, and they chased her unceasingly. When she finally reached the landing at the top of the stairwell, she burst through the door and slammed it shut behind her. Safe it at last, she let herself slide to the floor, breathing heavily. Instantly her rationality chastised her imagination, calling it foolish and childish. Pandora sighed; she had been very silly to think that monsters had chased her down the hall. Looking up, Pandora took in her surroundings and gathered that she was in a familiar hallway. However familiar it was, though, she had several doors to attend to yet, and her adventures continued.

The first door led to another hallway. Pandora made a mental note to explore it later, and she continued her search for adventure. The second and third doors each led to small museum-like rooms with paintings, statues, and other "old stuff," as she called it. The fourth door was also museum-like, but there were people inside. She did not care to notice them, although they certainly noticed her. She simply ignored them and poked about the shelves and tables until one called her name.

"Pandora?" a voice she recognized as Persephone's called.

Pandora sighed and turned.

"Oh my gods…" Persephone breathed.

"Merde! Jeune fille! Qu'est-ce vous avez fait?! Fou! Fou, fou, fou! Tu souhaites me pousser à fou!" the Merovingian cried in surprise.

The Twins only stared.

Assuming that she was dirty or that she was not supposed to be in the room, she muttered a quick apology and made for the door.

"ARRETES!"

Pandora had no idea what that meant, and she guessed that it meant hurry or something similar, so she ran for the door.

"Stop at once, tu fille imprudent!" the Merovingian yelled.

She turned around, terrified, and she stared at the occupants of the room like a deer caught in headlights. Two women she had never seen before sat on a couch near the Merovingian's left hand; on his right sat the Twins and Persephone, the latter nearer to him than the former. Pandora began pouring out her apologies, quite against her nature, but for fear of the dungeons, she would do most anything. Inwardly, she hated the Merovingian as each second drew on. However, she had no sooner begun before he stopped her. The two women smiled, one jovially and the other condescendingly.

"Ah," said one.

The other said, "This must be the girl."

"Hello, Pandora," said the first. "I—"

The second interrupted and said, "She need not be present for the rest of this conversation, and as I gather from your reactions, it would be prudent if she left. Goodbye, child."

Instantly, Pandora's anger flared. "I am no child!" she snapped.

The second woman smirked and said softly, "But you are." Louder she added, "Now go."

"Stop, Pandora," the Merovingian said. He turned quickly to one of the women and snapped, "I give orders here, not you." He turned back to Pandora and demanded, "Now explain yourself."

Pandora looked at him, bewildered.

Persephone whispered, "What happened to you?"

"Huh?" Pandora asked, most ungracefully.

"Well, weasel," began Two.

"You seem to be older," finished One, with an air of finality.

"Ah," the second woman intoned. "Now I understand. I can explain quite simply, so long as the child is not present."

"I'm not a little kid!" snapped Pandora.

The first woman, who seemed to have been thinking throughout the entirety of the conversation, said quietly, "Child or no, you still have to leave. If you heard what we are about to say, you would get hurt. Now." Her voice strengthened and seemed impossible to disobey. "You must leave at once. But we will let you back in."

Pandora mumbled something sulkily and left grudgingly. Once outside, she sighed. 

Inside the room, Ate said to her companion, "You are so rash sometimes. You did not need to be so rude. You could have just asked her to step outside for a moment."

"Shut up," Eris snapped. "None of you quite understand the seriousness of this issue. Pandora has apparently aged already."

"Quel l'enfer? You are speaking nonsense," the Merovingian snapped.

"If you would let me finish, it just might make sense to you," Eris said impatient and impertinent.

"That's it!" Ate cried. "Nobody talks until I finish! First, Pandora's appearance is based on her mental age. Obviously, she's learned a life lesson and has aged accordingly. Second, she's gonna get old up to a certain point, and then she'll be so enlightened that she'll be like an angel, and will appear thus. The problem with this is that she will be so disconnected with reality she'll be almost like a vegetable. Third, the coming circumstances will actually increase her growth rate or what have you. Fourth, the older she gets, the harder it will be for us to help her. And fifth, if we can't help her defeat Nemesis, we're all screwed because she has no idea how to fight. There, now you can talk."

Persephone sighed. "I know what will come of this," she said. "I'm not happy."

"No one said you had to be," Ate replied. 

"Well," the Merovingian said. "Now zhat zhat 'as been settled, per'aps you would not mind explaining one more sing to me."

"Depends on what it is," snapped Eris. Ate kicked her.

The Merovingian narrowed his eyes, but continued, "Why is it Pandora zhat 'as to fight zis… Nemesis? Ah'm sure zeh Tvins could easily vahnquisss such a foe."

"Oh," Ate said, "there is no doubt in my mind they could do so easily." She smiled coquettishly at Two. "However, Nemesis would probably just annihilate them because they were around when Rhea was killed. It's nothing to do with who can and cannot take Nemesis on, it's to do with who won't be killed by default. So, we have this fairly new program-remainder-thingy, who conveniently carries Nemesis. Why _not_ get Pandora to fight Nemesis for us?"

"Alright," the Merovingian acquiesced. "Alright, just so long as it is done, Ah don't cahre. Now all ahv you, get ouht!"

~@~

Pandora continued her wanderings for several hours, poking around and finding interesting rooms and parlours. Eventually, these became boring as well, and Pandora decided to venture out into the night to see to the gardens. Even though it was only six-thirty, the sun had long since set.

Surprised to see that someone had turned on the lights in the gardens, Pandora stealthily slipped from shadow to shadow, keeping herself fairly well hidden. She first came upon Two and the nice woman from the drawing room. They sat together on a stone bench near a fountain. Her laugh echoed against the flagstone walk, but it was not an eerie sound. In fact, it was rather a joyous sound. With the perpetually blooming flowers, her laugh gave the cold night some life. The wind stole most of the conversation, however, and Pandora only caught a few words, mostly 'Ate' in reference to the woman. Pandora watched them for a while, and for some reason unknown to her, she felt calm in their presence. There was some comfort in seeing them laugh together. Pandora did not understand why her heart fluttered when they kissed, but she thought it was the sweetest thing she had seen in her entire life.

Pandora moved away and quickly found One and the other, more snappish woman. She seemed very different, though. She was quiet and wore a peaceful smile as she sat in One's arms. Even though she wanted to hate the woman for being mean to her, Pandora found that she could not. The two seemed so calm together. Something was passing between them that she could not understand. She recognized it as the same thing that had passed between Two and Ate, but this was deeper. It was some kind of connection that allowed the two to sit next to each other and not say a word but to somehow understand everything. Puzzled, Pandora went back inside with much on her little mind.

~MnI~

more sap! … er, it wasn't intentional. But again, that seems to be the only reason I can get Pandora to … grow. Yes. So, please, review. Even though there's a chapter after this to read as soon as I get bored which will be soon considering school has started again. Review. It will  make the sappiness go away. Maybe. Uh… *cough* right. So, review. And on to chapter something. And biggest question: is this making any sense? (Kit, I hope you liked Vlad's diary!!! You so know he has one!)


	15. Lily!

A/N: again, I enjoy constructive criticism, and any offered will be taken in stride, so long as it is logical.

D/C: once again, because i don't own the matrix, etc. i'm not getting anything out of this other than undue stress.

Lupe: thanks so much! *puffed with pride* your review totally made my day. The only, and we mean ONLY reason why we've been able to keep the 'we' going extends from the strange habit a friend and i have of imitating them. I'm glad you like the mythology because it takes a lot of work to combine what I already know, what I'm finding out, and what I need. Ah well. i'll stop apologizing for the sap, just for you. oh, and one more thing… two is MINE! MINE MINE MINE!!! *jumping up and down and stomping*

Skittles: Last chapter was just a little, lalalala-oh-by-the-way type thing… I'm glad you liked it. As to the urns… if I'd been there there'd have been no room for willpower amongst all the broken pottery. Hehehe. Pan is *counts* nine. Maybe I'll get into Ate and Eris some other time… I really can't write sap without getting cheesy. Eventually, you're going to start throwing shoes at me. Have some pocky, it helps with the school work!

Protectress: I never thought about that, but, as you'll see, pan can do other things that you might find similar. I'm glad it makes sense, because although it doesn't confuse me, I've been toying with the idea/plot longer than you have. So I got worried that I was confusing. POCKY!!! hehe. Enjoy.

Pandora the Brave

Chapter the Fourteenth

Pandora, the Twins, and the two women lounged about in the Twin's sitting area. Pandora smiled; she had never before been treated with such equality: one of the women sat behind her, calmly piling her hair fancily on her head. Pandora believed her name was Ate, but she couldn't be sure, because she and the other woman were identical.

Almost identical. Pandora had noticed right off that one had a more impish disposition, while the other had a more vicious air, and although she still had no idea who was who, she did know that one of their names was Ate and the other was Lily.

Pandora guessed that Lily wouldn't be nice enough to do her hair, so she rationalized that Ate was behind her. Endeavouring to strike up a conversation with the ice-queen Lily, Pandora asked, "So. What is it that you do, Lily?"

Lily did not answer.

Pandora repeated her question.

Again, Lily did not answer.

"Lily?" Pandora asked. "Lily?"

Eris sighed and turned a page of her newspaper, "I do suppose you're talking to me. There isn't anyone in this room called Lily."

"Then who are you?" asked Pandora.

"I am Eris," she replied shortly. "I see to discord."

Without having to be asked, Ate said, "I am Ate. I get to be the Master of All Things Mischievous."

Pandora asked, "What can you guys do?"

"How do you mean?" asked Eris coldly.

"Like the Twins can do the ghosty thing," answered Pandora.

"I have a golden apple that drives men to hatred and a knack for causing anger, loathing, and other such pleasant things," replied Eris.

Again, Ate answered Pandora without waiting to be asked. "I follow my older sister around and leave havoc in my wake."

"No, like what are your special powers?" Pandora asked.

Ate said, "Well, I can move some things with my mind. It serves the main purpose of causing car wrecks and knocking stuff over."

Eris replied curtly, "I control people's emotions, and I generally use this talent to make people hate each other. It's fairly useful for starting major conflicts."

Pandora mumbled, "Oh," as Eris turned another page of her paper, and she remained silent.

Eris sighed and looked over the top of her news. "I suppose you want me to ask you the same question," she said. "Alright. What is it that you can do?"

Pandora's face brightened as she began to list her all special abilities. "Well," she said, her head bobbing. "I can change my clothes at will." Ate tried to hold Pandora in place for she was still styling her hair.

"So what? You can change your clothes. Big whoop," Eris said, crushing Pandora's simple pride.

"But I've never seen anyone else do it," she protested.

"It's just like rolling your tongue. It serves one purpose: to tease those who cannot," Eris replied condescendingly. "Come on, when are you going to need to change your clothes in _real_ life? The important things are fighting skills and survival skills, of which, I doubt you have any."

"Hey!" Pandora retorted, "I can do useful stuff, too!"

"Like what?" Eris asked mockingly.

"I…" Pandora began. Just as Eris was about to say something, Pandora said, "I can walk on the ceiling."

"Oh?" Ate said, "That's interesting."

"Yeah!" Pandora gushed. "And I can move real fast!"

"Really? How fast can you move?" Ate asked.

"Oh don't encourage her," Eris snapped.

Ate smiled at her identical and said, "Like all things, children need encouragement."

Eris quipped, "Oh but she's not a child. Remember?"

"Am too!" Pandora challenged.

"Now you say she isn't and she says she is. How strange. You seem to have switched ideas."

As Eris and Ate began to argue, One said slowly, "Pandora, you did forget to mention that you have unnatural curiosity." He eyed her carefully over his magazine.

Eris said, "That. is obvious."

Two demanded, "Everybody stop arguing. Who's up for that game?"

After explaining the rules to That Game, the five began to play with two decks. As they finished, Pandora showed off her ceiling feat amid grudging applause, but the parlour games were over quickly, and at about ten, the Twins sent Pandora to bed.

Like hell she actually went.

Instead, she chose to putter about in the hallway until she decided that the Twins had finally gone to bed. After she saw the lights under the door disappear, she crawled along the ceiling and opened it slowly. Hearing One in his room, she slide closer; he laughed quietly.

"You would make a very bad mother," he said.

A voice Pandora recognized as Eris's growled and snapped, "Oh, and I do suppose you could tell the difference. From what I gather, that girl likes Two better."

"Do you like us better?" One asked. 

"No," Eris replied flatly. "I love you; Ate loves your brother."

Pandora realized that was what she had witnessed in the gardens. That strange friendship between her Twins and the identical strangers was not a friendship at all; it was love. 

"I want to look at the stars," Eris said after a long silence. "It's been so long since I've seen them."

The door opened, One in the lead, and Pandora struggled to flatten herself against the ceiling. 

After One and Eris had moved out onto the balcony, Pandora had listened in on Two and Ate for awhile. She noticed a huge difference between the brothers that night; she noticed some differences between the sisters that night. Most importantly, however, Pandora spied inward and realized some things about herself. That night Pandora slept very little and spent many hours in deep reflection.  
~@~

Persephone looked out the window. _It is only a week. A week at the most,_ she reminded herself. _Then I will be free._ She sighed quietly as the sun tainted the night, driving it back, and she turned her thoughts back to the events at hand. Pandora was nine now. Persephone looked around the festive breakfast room; she had spent the better part of an hour decorating it.

Slowly the table filled, and as each person arrived, Persephone explained herself. Eventually all the places were taken, even the Twins had sat down, but Pandora still had not come. Finally, Persephone pressed a button near a door, and a bell rang somewhere far off in the château. Five minutes later, a groggy Pandora stumbled into the room amidst a dying shout of, "Happy Birthday!" Groaning, she fell into her chair and laid her head in her arms. Eris began yelling at no one in particular about drastic measures or some such, but most of the room had chosen to ignore everything but their food, Persephone among them. One, who was also focusing on each bite he put into his mouth, felt somewhat deafened by Eris, who after all was sitting right next to him, while Ate, across the table, began talking to Two about Harry Potter, more specifically Sirius Black. As soon as Eris realized that no one was listening to her, she shrieked and sat down, loudly berating Pandora, who had fallen asleep again.

After all, teenagers _do_ need more sleep.

~MnI~

please review!

*dancing and singing and chanting* Two is miiiiiine… Two hours of sleep is for babies!!! Two is miiiine mine mine miiiine!!! I haven't slept in daaaaaayssss and I don't care! Lalalala! Review or I'll dress Two up in his shaman costuuuuuuuuume and he'll curse you! ahahahahahahahahaha *passes out* doctors: the only cure for this is reviews, folks.

(see, i'm good at propaganda!)


	16. Minor Events

A/N: we are beginning to act like ourself, as in our other self, as in the orange of doom [insert shameless plug for the 'orange of doom' hint: in quotes is her sn..] anywho, like ourself, we are beginning to hoard chapters away. (did you know that 'hoard' refers to the act of hoarding and 'hoarde' refers to the stash itself?) there are two chapters written ahead of posted ones and i might be on a roll, but i daren't say so for fear of jinxing myself.

D/C: I own the Matrix and the Matrix Reloaded DVDs, the Matrix Reloaded Soundtrack, Enter the Matrix, several backgrounds, a few buttons, and a cd case. That's the closet I'll ever be to owning the Matrix. I don't claim to be the Wachowskis, and if I did, why would I be writing fanfiction? I would be writing another movie script, wouldn't i? exactly.

Kit: actually, she was nine until she stayed up all night being philosophical. Yes, Ate has a thing for Two and Eris has a thing for One. And don't poor lil' Pan me, it's not going to help her at all *evil laughter* her fate is quite sealed, i do assure you—not that it's a bad one or anything. *shifty eyes* don't worry, Pan is safe… for now. And boredom reigned, well I only used that because I had this inane compulsion to use the phrase 'the white room' at the time, it's not well suited to the rest of the tone of that paragraph *furiously revises on computer* there. It's been fixed. Hehe. I hope this chapter is to your liking! (I think we should stop arguing about Two *resists urge to claim him again* urk… need.. willpower…)  
Matrix-Twin1: I say it's about time we give you a nickname! Yay! *can't think of anything* damn… ah well. I'm online all the time at school. In fact, reading that review in the middle of my theology class was so rewarding. It made me want to write pages and pages! Or just abolish theology classes that actually restrict thought as apposed to inciting it. Anyways, I'm writing a vl—nevermind, that was not a total giveaway of all my plans! Go ahead and write a vlad's diary, or better yet—wait, I like that idea… have fun!  
Skittles: omg! omg! I want that song sooooo bad! AUGH! *sob* more pocky! (lots of exclamation points… hm.) good luck with your essay, and don't worry. Pan is perfectly safe with me. Don't call cps because I'm not doing anything wrong *winking* *cough* um… right.  
Protectress: no! no love stories! I'm not writing a love story, you can't make me! oh fine… I'll add that to the everincreasing list of "Things to Write" which seems to get bigger and bigger even as I type. e.o hope you like this one as much as the others!  
CuteHappyBunny: one, i'm sorry that you are so disillusioned. *avoids projectiles from Kit* two, (wow it took me about eight tries to type that without caps or accidentally writing twin. gotta work on that) I don't mind in the least. Because, let's face it, I don't think many people are stupid enough to try to combine the Matrix with Greek mythology. Wait, I did. Hmm… Three, then go out and buy some!! Four, why am I counting? I'm so glad you like this! *proud* have some virtual pocky!  
Wintergirl: I'm not giving it away! I'm not, I'm not, I'm not! grr… jp. I'm glad you like my little Dischordia and I hope you like this chapter, too.  
Ieva: … you know, cummings isn't nearly so nice to *our* class. If you're not careful, he might get it in his head to lock you in the dark darkroom, the one with no light at all. And since I only go down there every other day, you could be in there for a while.  
CCC: HIII! I WUV YOU!

Pandora the Brave

~Chapter 15~ (the tildes are there so that you people who like to skip an's can just get to the point)

Although Pandora's age-jump had been obvious and unexpected, Ate quickly realized the real facts, including Pandora's real age: 12. It took some convincing to get Eris to believe her, especially after Pandora rapidly developed several distinctly adolescent habits. Nonetheless, three days later, select members of the Merovingian's posse, Ate, Eris, Persephone, and Pandora all boarded a private jet flying direct to Greece. As everyone settled into his or her chair, Pandora alone in the back, the plane took off. The window occupied her full attention as the ground fell away, even though she was seeing neither. Pandora silently chewed a stick of cinnamon gum and tried to relax, understandably nervous; it was her first plane ride.

Just as the plane leveled out, Ate plopped into a chair beside her.

"Hey kiddo," she said, ruffling her hair, and for the first time Pandora noticed that she did not have an accent. It seemed strange to her, and that in itself seemed to give her one, because for all of Pandora's life, those around her had all had accents.

"Hi," Pandora replied.

"I'm supposed to keep you occupied. You know, so you don't think to hard or something," Ate said.

Pandora grunted, "Huh."

"Alright," Ate offered. "I'll make the conversation, hm?" After receiving no reply, she continued, "Why do you always wear white?"

"'Cause the Twins do," Pandora grunted.

"Blue might look better on you."

"It doesn't," Pandora snapped.

"Okay then… But all the kids your age actually wear colours. Think about it, sweetheart, in the magazines they always have stripes or something."

"I don't care," Pandora replied.

Ate sighed. "I liked you better as a little kid," she said. "Now you're just icky. How bout we cause a little trouble, hm? Would you warm up then?"

"Whatever."

"That was a yes or no question, kid."

"Yes, then. Go ahead, do something! I have nothing better to do."

"That's not quite the spirit I was looking for, but it's close enough. What do you want? A Merovingian flambé or a vampire à la mode?"

"Hmm…" Pandora said. "How 'bout a stewardess pancake?"

Ate laughed. "You're pretty mean. Okay… let's see now, where's the heaviest thing in this plane?"

Pandora craned her neck to see over the chair in front of her. There was a huge cabinet filled with glasses and spirits held in place by a few well-placed straps, and Pandora quickly pointed it out to Ate, who glared at each strap until it slid from its buckle. When there was only one left, a stewardess conveniently moved beneath it to serve someone a drink, and Ate let the strap loose.

Needless to say, the next half-hour proved interesting indeed, as it took several men to lift the heavy cabinet off the woman and several more to bind it back into place. The plane eventually quieted down, however, and Pandora grew bored.

"Now what?" she asked.

Ate thought for a moment before replying, "I dunno. Why don't you read a magazine or play cards or something?"

"I don't like pop culture, and I don't have a deck on me," Pandora replied icily.

"You mean you don't like humans, don't you?"

Pandora nodded.

"Well, kiddo, you have to blend in. And besides, it's fun to mess around with clothes. I mean, what with the ability to change your appearance whenever you want, you can confuse a hell of a lot of people that way. I've made several stand-ins for myself, and my favourite by far is this one chick who makes everyone think they're having weird déjà vu. It's crazy. It's actually really funny to watch."

Pandora said, "Neat."

"Am I boring you?" Ate asked wearily.

"No," Pandora replied. "Please… do go on. I think it's kinda interesting."

"Okay. Well… The first time I tried to make a mini-me, I screwed up really bad. I was just messing around on my sister's laptop, and bammo! I suddenly have about thirty Furby-like creatures running around and destroying stuff. It was awful. We—and by that I mean Eris and I—spent three hours trying to round them up. We stuck 'em in this cage, and I started making more. Eris was understandably mad at me, but we managed to contain them. The next day, I totally borrowed a friend's jet pack and scattered them all over downtown. Man, that was awesome."

"What did they do?" Pandora asked.

"Oh," Ate shrugged. "Most of them just ran around doing relatively small damage. I mean, there were only ten major accidents. I had been hoping for thirty, but I guess they didn't like the traffic light wires."

"What?" Pandora asked. "So they, like, ate stuff?"

"Uh.." Ate said. "I guess you could say that… It's more like they just enjoyed breaking things, but okay."

"Cool!" Pandora exclaimed. "Like gremlins!"

"Gremlins?"

"Like from that dorky eighties film, like, where the Gremlins, like, go around and, like, destroy New York."

"Ssomething like that… I guess. I've never seen that movie; I'm not much of a judge."

"Yeah," Pandora said, fiddling with a white mitten. "It's, like, a stupid movie anyway."

"Are you feeling okay? All of a sudden, it's as if you're talking weird."

"Huh? How d'ya mean? Like, what am I saying?"

"Nothing… Forget it…" Ate sighed. _Bloody kids…_

Pandora grinned, "Hey, d'ya got, like, a magazine or somethin'? 'Cause I, like, really wanna read somethin', ya know?"

"Sure," Ate replied uneasily. "Uh, let me go and get one for you."

~@~

Ten minutes later, Pandora was flipping through a teen magazine with about thirty more lying at her feet. She finished it, and picked up a catalogue from DKNY and as she fanned through the pages, she looked like a blur of colour in the back of the plane.

"That's healthy?" Two asked, eyeing her warily.

Ate shrugged, "It could be worse. She could be a hacker-goth-poser-computer nerd."

One said, "Just so long as she's not bungling your plans, we don't care."

Eris looked up. "Oh good, Ate," she said seriously. "Now you've got her doing something constructive."

"We hardly think that constructive," One replied quietly.

Ate shrugged, and Eris answered, "It's constructive to our cause. True, she's acting like a complete idiot."

"How is she being an idiot?" Ate asked. "She's just trying on clothes."

"Yeah," Eris answered. "Clothes deemed popular by the first magazine she picked up."

"Aesthetics aren't brainless."

"Look at that," Two said, disgust playing on his face as he covertly averted a loud argument.

Pandora was wearing an orange plunge neck midriff and a micro miniskirt. She had purple lace armwarmers and green stiletto espadrilles. Ate grimaced and muttered, "Okay, I'll go talk to her."

Kneeling in front of Pandora, Ate said, "Uh, maybe you should wear something, uh, warmer since it's November and cold."

"Why?" Pandora asked. "All the big kids are. Like, I mean, oh my god!"

Ate coughed, forced a smile, and offered some key advice. "Winter is usually cold," she warned. "It's not considered normal to wear a… distinctly… summer, yes, a distinctly summer outfit in the middle of winter."

"Oh my god," Pandora snapped. "The big kids can do what they want! You just don't want me to have any fun. You're not my mother! I can wear whatever I want!"

Ate quickly grabbed a magazine and flipped until she found a picture of a young woman stylishly dressed and completely covered. "Here," she said, pointing to the picture. "I think this would suit you better. It, uh, definitely brings out your eyes."

"You think?" Pandora exclaimed, instantly swapping outfits. "Wow, oh my god, you're, like, the best big sister type person ever, ya know!"

"Uh, thanks," Ate replied, standing up.

Back with the Twins, she could only sigh.

"Cool it, Ate. We both know it's only the hormones," Eris said.

"What hormones? She's a program," Ate sighed. "And kids her age don't have hormones. They have pseudo-hormones."

"Well considering her home life, we can't think of why she wouldn't dress like a slut," One said before Eris could open her mouth; he nonchalantly flipped a page of his GQ magazine.

"Hush, One," Eris hissed, her eyes dancing dangerously. "Mustn't be caught saying that."

"Well, you have to admit," Two said loudly, "We do have a point."

Eris opened her mouth, but clamped it shut. She then muttered, "I promised."

"That's right you did," Ate snapped. "You promised all three of us, so don't try anything." Then Ate began wagging her finger and raising her eyebrows up and down. "Don't get smart with me, missy!"

Eris's eyes narrowed, and she whispered dangerously, "I'll have you know, little sister, you can't stop me, now or ever."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," the Twins said together. "Drop it. This can be discussed some other time."

Eris smiled lovingly at her sister, her eyes dripping poison, while Ate grinned sweetly, and said, "All my love, _sister_."

_Why do they always do this?_

_They're both in love with chaos._

_Different aspects of chaos._

_It's the same thing, us. They vie for approval in his sight._

_But, chaos isn't real, is he?_

_I meant it figuratively, little brother. She loves us, don't worry._

_Don't they love each other?_

_We don't know._

Two sighed, only half-comforted by his twin. He did not worry about love so much as he worried about Ate and Eris clawing each other's eyes out, or worse. Even though they both had seen them really go at it, that one time when they both nearly died, only Two remembered; One had blocked it out. It was one of their worst memories, and they both agonized over its potential consequences every time the girls would start fighting. They could not stop them anymore than Eris and Ate could help arguing. Ate lived to annoy and aggravate, and Eris passionately orchestrated strife among friends or foes, a volatile and deadly combination usually resulting in sorrow on the parts of parties involved. Unfortunately, Eris and Ate had little concept of grief or regret, and they could not conceive of its presence in others.

Painful as it was to see them fight, the Twins did nothing other than prevent severe bodily harm and only then on rare few occasions. But the fight was now bottled up—it would be worse later—and they spent the rest of the trip in blaring silence.

The plane began to land, and Ate began picking on Eris, who turned all her wrath on Ate. They were quickly trading insults and attacking each other's ideas. Just as the plane rolled to a stop and Ate was about to set Eris's hair on fire, Pandora walked up, smiling curiously.

"Why are you fighting?" she asked Ate calmly.

"None of your damn business," Eris snapped.

"Who the hell asked you?" Pandora retorted hotly, turning on Eris like a demented cat.

Furious, Eris yelled, "Children are to be seen! Not heard!"

"I'm not a child!" Pandora shrieked, shattering the Merovingian's wine glass in his hand.

"Enough!" he cried, jumping to his feet. "Fools!"

Then Eris cackled manically, and the Merovingian stormed off the plane, his posse hot on his heels.

~MnI~

For a while there, my oc's were ooc. Heh. But now they are back in character. More to come! Review, and it'll go faster, believe me. motivation…. Ahaha! This is one of my more blah chapters, so forgive it, and review, and maybe in spite of my exams, I will post again for you. jaa!


	17. The Wheels on the Limousine

**not a real update. wintergirl alerted me to several typos. i do not tolerate typos *growl* so i fixed them. (i hope)**

A.N: if you haven't noticed and if you don't know, this is the absolute longest I have ever actively worked on a story while progressing the plotline at the same time. so as the plot of Pandora begins to close in my mind, I would ask if you would stop me as soon as I sound like I'm just wrapping up. (that's just for the last chapter) 

D.C: you make me very sad. of course i don't own the matrix, you fool! leave me be! *cries*

Pandora the Brave, or the Very Manipulated Pandora

Chapter 16

The hangar was comfortable, neither too stuffy nor too chilly; the doors were closed, and no wind could get inside. Pandora expected Greece to be warm, but since she had not been in the elements since France, she could not know. 

A limousine waited patiently as they had stepped off the plane, the Merovingian leaning on it like James Dean, although he was loathe to admit it; he was irritated, tapping his foot and grumbling like he had somewhere to be. Pandora gathered there was some order to get in the car, otherwise the Merovingian would have waited in the car, unless he did not want to appear like he waited on his servants? _Politics…_

As the Twins ushered Ate and Eris into the car, they motioned for Pandora to follow, and in their brief arrangement of their seating, they shoved Pandora into the corner. No sooner than had they sat down, Cain and Able climbed into the car, followed by Vlad, who had fixed a scowl on his face for whatever reason. Only then did the Merovingian ceremoniously step into his limousine, an aggravated Persephone throwing herself in beside him. Two more vampires sat down next to the doors, and the hangar doors began to lurch open.

Silent for once, the Merovingian watched his minions from the corner of his eye, but it hardly took five minutes to notice the most dangerous part of the limousine: those Twins had placed those two idiot women right next to each other, with the idiot girl beside the idiot Twin. Four idiots all sitting in a row, two stupid idiots and two dangerous ones, the Merovingian logged that away, hoping the relatively intelligent Twin could explain his foolish actions later, assuming they made it out of the car alive. For now, it seemed Ate—that was her name, yes?—was content to bother the other subtly; hopefully, it would stay that way, although he knew it would not. He could only hope nothing terrible erupted right in front of him; for although it was not unusual for his minions to fight, it was unusual for them to fight in his presence in public where he could be embarrassed. Inwardly, he was livid, but he kept his appearance as disinterested as possible.

For a moment, he briefly wanted to tell Persephone. There was once a time when he would have gladly shared this information with her, run it through her, listened to her advice, mocked the involved parties… But that was a time long gone, besides, she hated him now. She had begun hating him long ago; his only comfort came from manipulating women now, as they had manipulated politics together. It hurt, yes, it stung, yes, but it was his life now whether he liked it or not. For that brief moment, he wished his wife had not begun hating him years ago, because now the damage was complete, and he could never win her back. _Stupid Persephone._

But at the same time, Persephone's thoughts ran a parallel track for the first time in centuries. She, too, wished her husband had not tired of her, had not used her up like a doll. What could she do now, when she had no reason to stay? Pandora had been a welcome diversion, not only that, but she almost, almost, almost brought her husband back. Nothing could do that now, nothing could save her from the loneliness she knew she was to endure for the rest of her existence. At the same time she loathed him, she also pitied him, because her heart knew he loved her and her departure would drive him farther into his wanton ways.

~@~

Pandora kept her head down, wanting nothing more than to sink into the seat: Eris was sitting next to her and Ate just would not stop pushing her limits. She poked Eris, purposely fell on her when the limousine turned, sang softly in her ear, and taunted her any other way she could. Ate was acting like she was drunk, as if she had no idea of how absolutely terrifying Eris really was. Pandora cringed every time Eris breathed; she knew at any moment Eris could explode. Why was Ate playing with nitroglycerin? The Twins should stop her, separate them, anything. She looked to Two, sitting next to her; he was staring straight ahead, pretending not to notice anything. Not for the first time she wished she could have their mental link, too; she wanted to make them stop this madness. Gently, she tugged on his sleeve, looking pleadingly into his sunglasses, hoping above anything he was not closing his eyes. Apparently he was.

~@~

Two looked away, shaking Pandora off his sleeve; she was twelve and did not need to tug on his arm. But even as he thought it, he realized it was not so. Pandora was still a six-year-old, loud-mouthed brat, seven if she was lucky. For all that junk Eris said about thinking and growing up and such, Pandora was still a kid. She had not had the experience to make her an adult, even a pre-teen. Yet at that moment, it was not Pandora he needed to worry about; it was Eris. Again, he realized as he thought it, it was Pandora he needed to think about; she was afraid—no, she was terrified. He quickly tagged One and shared the memory of Pandora tugging on his sleeve. Then, Two tried to show One his feelings about this, but One stopped him.

_Just talk to us. We don't have to understand us, we already do, twit. We _are _still us._

Two decided that would definitely be a memory he wanted to keep. _Why did we put them together?_

_They need it. Did we see how they exploded in the plane?_

_Yes! Exactly why we should separate them._

_No._ One said quickly, almost too quickly. _They need to work out their differences._

_Why?_ Two asked. _Why do they need to learn what we've always known when we can do it for them?_

One did not answer for a minute. Two thought he sensed pain, but it registered more as guilt, so he ignored it. 

_That's not the point,_ One eventually replied.

_Why, us?_ Two asked stubbornly.

_We know, so should they._

_They aren't twins like us. They aren't twins at all._

_So? They still need to know._ Concern began to seep through One's voice. _What if some day they're caught and they have to work together?_

Two answered automatically, _Then__ we come save them. Besides, it's not like they can't work together._

One sighed aloud; Two glanced at him. _Us…_

_What aren't we telling us?_

_No. We hit the head on the nail is all._

Two paused for a moment, but then believed his brother. _What do we mean?_

_The point: they_ can _work together. They've done it as long as we have._

_Not so long as we've known them._

One cringed, but continued, _In__ the past, what if they never fought?_

_Go on._

_Would not something then have been the catalyst? Something to make them fight all the time?_

Before Two could answer, they felt Pan's terror elevate; Vlad did, too, they knew. This required immediate attention.

_We have to do something,_ Two demanded.

_Give us Pan._

_What?_

_Set Pan in between us._

_We just called her Pan._

_It doesn't matter!_ One growled. _Just_ move _her!_

_Why don't we sit next to Eris?_

_One: it ruins the plan. Two: Pan needs to know we care about her._

_But us—_

_Just do it!_

One broke off the mental link harshly, and turned to quiet Vlad, who appeared to be searching for an answer, with a look of pure venom.

Two only noticed that Eris looked more murderous than he had ever, ever seen her before when he saw how frightened Pandora really was. With her attention focused entirely on Eris, Pandora jumped when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. Trembling, she wrapped her arms around his neck while he hugged her.

Then One tagged him. _Put her between us._ Two did not argue, and he set Pandora down between them. One took her hand, and she looked into his face, bewildered for a moment. She smiled awkwardly for she was still afraid, but she accepted One's comfort. It was weird, but she liked it anyways. He had rarely paid attention to her before, maybe Two had said something? Unlikely, and she was ashamed instantly to think that One had risked his neck to get her out of the dungeons and here she was, doubting his sincerity.

~@~

Eris and Ate bickered quietly, beginning with veiled insults, slipping into wild and ill-conceived accusations, and finally settling on violent death threats. The gruesome details were laid out in excess; the plans often could not work, but no matter—they understood exactly what the other was capable of and did not doubt she was creative enough to combine each plan into something far horrible than anything actually mentioned. It was so easy to threaten Ate with an electrified dagger through her abdomen, just as it was easy for her to inform Eris of her imminent death by infant vipers.

They were so infinitely close to physical harm when the limousine pulled into the hotel driveway, they did not really notice.

"We're here," the Merovingian said dryly.

~MnI~

FST- thanks! I hope I can live up to the expectations of intrigue. Did you know that intrigue can refer to conspiracies?

Protectress- thanks for the good luck, I hope it worked. *prays to the mainframe for good grades* Sorry bout the cheerleaderness, but everyone I know, myself included, talked that way for a while… back in the day… *cough* anyways… most people talk that way actually, you just can't tell because they're talking so fast. Of course I shall continue! I like being mean to you guys and pulling in random greek mythology and plotting out fight scenes and such. Muahahaha.

Wintergirl- maybe I should write another eris and ate story for you… I really want armwarmers tho… that was totally my twisted sense of style coming through… Pan's still a preteen, so I still get the best of both worlds into the story.

Kit- more bitchy Pandora next chapter! Yay! And there will also be a little annoying brat Pandora, too. As for her sealed fate, I mean that I already know what's going to happen to her and I'm not changing my mind. It's such a pity that character development sucks the hilarity out of things. Thanks a ton!

~it's been a long while since i've asked this question, and i ask it again, earnestly, in fact, because this whole chapter was devoted to one thing: character development, and now i want genuine feedback. i'm such a demanding author, neh? Cupcakes for everybody!! *confetti* please don't forget to tell me, how was my character development?! i try and i try and you never tell me if i get it right *sob* please? Arigato gozaimasu! And don't be depressed, there's several more chapters to go, even if i've ended the storyline in my head.


	18. L'hôtel Noir

A.N: hello everybody. Our traitorous computer deleted this chapter, so we've had to rewrite it. In addition, we edited five chapters (3-7), effectively erasing Rhiannon. For those who care, that story is one we've been revamping for a while now. Thus its serious lack of updates. More on that when we know more. Oh, and if you don't want to go back and reread the edited chapters, we replaced Rhiannon with a program called Loki. Loki never actually appears, just as Rhiannon did not, so it's really no biggie if you don't go back and reread the same junk only for a few pronoun changes. The two main reasons behind the change (for the curious) are our general hatred for Rhiannon and the new plotline for that story leaves no room for excursions to the Mero, both of those beside the fact that we were never really happy with Rhiannon in the first place. And in other news, the Merovingian is quite ooc, but we don't feel too compelled to change anything, partly because we've left ourself a nice out for the last chapter. Never fear, all shall be resolved! (note for the slow: 'we' is our equivalent to 'i')

D.C: not ours, don't sue. (and we won't sue either) (haha, did you get it? Sue and sue? as in mary sue? oh nevermind…)

Pandora the Brave

Chapter 17 (I don't care if it says 18, it's actually chapter 17. feh!)

Aside from Abel's magical ability to get himself stuck in the revolving doors, the hotel check-in was not particularly eventful. The Merovingian had reserved the entire top floor of the hotel, saving the penthouse for himself and his wife, of course. The sisters had their own room, across and down from the Twins and next to Vlad's room. Cain and Abel's room was next to his and the Merovingian's and the Twins shared a room across from them while Pandora's room was between theirs and the two vampires' room. 

Now, everyone in their respective rooms, Eris and Ate were loudly arguing over who would get the bed by the window. 

"Dibs on the window," Ate said as she walked into the room.

"Hey," Eris protested. "You had it last time."

Ate retorted, "I did not, dummy." She tossed her luggage onto the bed.

Eris snapped, "I'm not dumb! Besides, why would you want it anyways? It's raining outside."

"Well, why would you want it either?"

"You did too have it last time! It was at the Ramada in Vegas."

"That wasn't the last time, fool!" Ate said.

Eris glared and then brightened. "Oh yeah… It wasn't…"

"See?" Ate said. "My turn."

"No, it is _not_ your turn," Eris declared. "It was your turn last time when we stayed at the Plaza Hotel."

"Again, the last hotel we stayed at was not in America."

"Whatever! It's my turn!"

"No, it's mine!"

"That bed is mine!" Eris yelled.

"It's mine!" Ate cried, leaping for the bed.

"No," Eris said, as she manipulated the Matrix into stopping Ate in midair. "It is _my_ turn."

Eris then jumped to the bed, but Ate stopped her in midair, too, and the two hung there in silence for several minutes.

"Okay, let's put each other down on the count of four," Eris said.

"Okay," said Ate.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

"Four!"

Neither put the other down.

"You liar!" Ate screamed.

"You didn't put me down either!"

"I don't trust you!"

"Well, I don't trust you either!"

"Fine! Well you can just hang there all night!"

"You can, too!"

Ate glared and said quietly, "I hate you."

"I hate you more," Eris replied lightly.

Ate grumbled and shouted, "Well, _I_ hate you _most_!"

Eris glared and muttered, "Damn you."

"Yeah? Well, damn you more."

"Damn you most. Ha! I win!" Eris cried.

"Damn you most-er!"

"You're an idiot."

"Am not!" Ate screeched, reaching for Eris even though she was anchored in place.

"Are too!"

"Are not!"

"There! See? You just butchered the English language!"

"Yeah, well, baka ne, SHI NE!!"

"Oh, I'm so scared. Not only did you just pathetically combine two common phrases from Inuyasha, but they also don't exactly make a complete sentence."

"Shut up, Eris!"

"You shut up!"

"You shut up!"

~@~

Persephone sniffed. It was a delicate sound, and it seemed slightly repulsed. The Merovingian sighed, and turned, moving away from the window and his wife. If he had seen her face, he would have seen the single tear. It hurt; it hurt both of them. Yet neither had the courage to show their feelings for fear of rejection. So the screaming silence wore on, stifling and mocking. When they could finally take it no longer, they stormed for the door. It was an awkward moment, both of them reaching for the doorknob at the same time. Persephone looked down, swallowed, and glanced back up.

"You go on," she said.

The Merovingian hesitated for a moment, deciding whether or not he should invite her down with him. He smiled faintly and stepped from the room. _She wouldn't come anyways._

Persephone turned after the door closed and walked back to the window seat. Somehow, the drizzling rain and the dreary world drenched in it were comforting.

~@~

In the utter silence of their room, Two heard every single noise as One shuffled through the magazine rack. He'd read every one twice already. Finally, he rose and began to fiddle with the thermostat, taking it off the wall and dissecting it.

_Us, stop, that's annoying._

One ignored him as restlessness engulfed the both of them. Nothing was happening. A faint knock on the door announced the arrival of Pandora, who pushed it open slowly.

_Did we forget to close the door all the way?_

No answer. Pandora stole up to Two and looked up into his sunglasses.

"D'ya got an extra chair? I'm so bored," she said.

Two pointed her to the cushy armchair beside him. Sighing, Pandora sat down and pulled a mess of plastic yarn from the pocket of her jean jacket. Two watched in silence and fascination as she wove the four strands together, looping and pulling tight. After several minutes, Two asked, "What is that?"

"It's a lanyard. Ate gave it to me back at the château," she replied without looking up.

Two watched for several moments before asking, "Do you have any extra?"

Pandora looked up, grinning. "I started one for you. I was wondering when you'd ask," she said. "Here." She pulled a second tangle from her pocket and handed it to him.

Two inspected the yarn for a moment. It was actually two strands, but the lacing at the bottom made them seem like four. Two also noticed that Pandora seemed to have picked the colours out just for him; where hers were blue and gold, his was silver and black. "What do we do with it?"

Pandora spent the next two minutes helping Two lace his lanyard; after he had sufficiently learned, they sat in comfortable silence. Nearly an hour later, One looked over.

"What are we doing?"

~@~

"And I'm too sexy for my hat, too sexy for my hat, what do you think about that?" Ate sang.

Together they sang the chorus. "I'm a model you know what I mean, and I do my little turn on the catwalk. Yeah on the catwalk, on the catwalk, yeah, I shake my little tush on the catwalk!"

Both girls took turns singing each verse, and when they finally came to the end of the song, Ate cried the last line.

"And I'm too sexy for this song!"

"That's not part of it," Eris protested.

Ate replied, "Yeah, it is."

Eris said, "No, it isn't."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is _too_."

"Na-uh."

"Ya-huh."

They fought for several minutes, but a knock at the door interrupted them.

"Come in," they yelled.

"I can't," Pandora replied. "The door is locked."

Ate and Eris glared at each other, both unwilling to let the other go.

"Guys?" Pandora asked when they did not answer.

Hanging in the air, they could do nothing, but at the same time, they sort of enjoyed it. The joy between them had been only distance for the longest time; they did not particularly want to leave.

"Why do you need us?" Eris asked.

"I don't," Pandora replied curtly. "They want to play cards."

"Ate, put me down," Eris snapped.

"No way!" Ate retorted.

Eris screamed, "Let me go, btich!"

"Hell no! You put me down first!"

"Dream on, psusy."

"You cnut!"

They ended up dropping each other at the same moment they forgot everything but anger. Lunging, they began to claw and scratch at each other, pulling at the other's hair and shredding her clothes.

Outside the door, Pandora sighed, and made her way back to the Twins. When she knocked on their door, Two answered it. She sighed again and said, "They're fighting again."

One rushed to his brother's side. "What do you mean?" he demanded. "Actually fighting?"

"Sounds like it," Pandora said wearily. "They wouldn't let me in."

The Twins cursed and ran to the sisters' hotel room. When they rushed in, Ate and Eris looked up before falling back to attacking each other. The Twins had to pull them apart, and after struggling to keep them from tearing the other to shreds, One led Eris back to their room.

Pandora sighed before shuffling across the hall to bother Vlad. She had never spoken to him before, other than a polite 'hello'; so with slightly elevated energy, she knocked on his door and stood expectantly, absently lacing the plastic strands of her lanyard. As if time had slowed to an indelible crawl, Vlad came slowly to the door, and it opened sluggishly, leading Pandora to believe the very air had thickened and stood resistant to it. 

~@~

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Vlad leaned forward, cradling his head in his hands. The curtains were drawn although there was no need in the driving rain and misty conditions; no sunlight would seep through the clouds above. It was merely out of habit he closed them upon entering the room, and it was merely habit that kept them drawn. Older habits, long forgotten but easily revived, pulled his thoughts to more dreary subjects, perfectly dovetailing the waterlogged day. Bitterly, he laughed aloud as an acrid thought struck a chord. For all that time passed him slowly by, he but once wished the next few hours would accelerate. Living life in a bloated hourglass was hard enough; living life in an hourglass filled with quicksand was agony. Time, which for him dragged on and on, slowed even more as he waited impatiently for the phone to ring.

Instead, an almost inaudible knock roused him from his reflective haze, and he moved like a turtle for the door. Hoping against hope, he looked to see James at the threshold but instead beheld the forlorn yet cheerful countenance of one Pandora. She smiled faintly, and Vlad caught wafts of pain from her mind before she abruptly caught herself and forced herself into brighter thoughts. He ushered her inside while she babbled a quick greeting and explanation for her 'disruption.'

As she sat down in the chair by the window, Vlad noticed something oddly familiar about her, but it was far too vague to be anything but the ghost of a memory. While on that tangent, he began to remember every time he had seen her in the past, occasions thankfully sparse as they were, and he remembered, quite to his own surprise, the apparition in his dungeons. He watched her quietly as she regaled him on the recent events in which the Twins and those damned women recently partook, or at least he supposed she spoke on that subject for he was paying little attention to her words. Like a rollercoaster, her voice was fast and loud against the silent stupor of the room. In watching her, he noticed her fear of him ever so slightly echoing in the farthest reaches of her subconscious. _Ah,_ thought he. _She notices, too._ For indeed he recognized the familiarity of her mind against his own; her reeling thoughts reminded him of the child-banshee he had nearly caught.

"wish there were some way I could help them," she said, taking a breath to continue.

Vlad said, "You enjoy exploring, do you not?"

Caught off guard by his sudden speech, Pandora nodded slowly and realized this was the first time she had heard him say anything more than, "Good afternoon."

"And you went exploring recently," he continued, "Did you not?"

Again, she nodded.

"In the basement?"

Pandora nodded slowly before realization struck, and she pulled her knees up to her chest in fear. The terrible shadow was this man before her, and here she had sat in his presence prattling on about such mundane things as the woes of her fellows. Petty. Mentally berating herself, she missed Vlad's attempt to placate her, but it did not matter for she had rationalized her safety. They sat in empty silence for several minutes, each absorbed in his own thoughts. After a time, Pandora reached down and retrieved her fallen lanyard. While Vlad lost himself in the tumult of his mind, Pandora began lacing again, slowly as if to enjoy the movement of her fingers.

And so the remainder of the afternoon drifted into twilight and from there into real night, which found Pandora lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She was only staring, not attempting any real thought, and for all purposes, she was asleep. At one point, however, she stood up, walked across the room, and stood in front of the chest of drawers where she looked past the silvered glass of the mirror for several minutes before returning to her post on the bed. She did not hear the faint sobs coming from the Twin's room, nor did she notice the restless pacing of Vlad across the hall. Nearing eleven, she gave up her useless vigil and crawled under the bedclothes, still wearing the ensemble Ate had chosen for her. Yet even then, sleep would not come, and Pandora lay awake far into the night, her mind numb.

The rain continued long into the night, and the splashes of cars driving past could be heard well past midnight. Eventually, twilight crept back into the sky, dawn stretching her rosy fingers across the night, sending light back into the world. The clouds were gone. 

The crowing of the cock woke Eris, who stretched silently and sat up in bed. She slipped out of One's arms, gently kissing his cheek. With hatred, she glared at the rising sun, declaring quietly, "The day has come."

~MnI~

I don't have to, I know I don't, but I can't help it… MORE FORESHADOWING! *pant pant* hahahahaha, doncha just looooove me? Yeah. I bet you could tell i'm an old rules gal, what with my 'his own thoughts' bit. Hah. This is me---ignoring society. Keh. If only, if only… ah well… please review, and let me know what you think of this chapter. If you want to know why there was such a long delay, message me by email or im (see le profile), and you can listen to my longwinded excuses. So, with this I bid you adieu till next time, in which there will be a fight scene, so I may take a little longer. Reviewers get virtual pockyyyy!

CuteHappyBunny: *grudgingly* okay, fine… you can take all _my_ pocky and eat it yourself… jkjk. Have some! What's your favourite kind? Chocolate, strawberry, dark chocolate, double chocolate, white chocolate *counting on fingers*… I'm glad you think it's that good, but would would be so surprised how much stress I devote to this. It's like… dammit! I need a different article! Augh! *is a perfectionist* mmm… pudding…

Protectress: hola chica, unfortunately, I don't want to develop my ocs too much… it's my weirdness kicking in.


	19. Crescendo

_This was written for our own benefit. We've been very tired of Pandora's POV for a while now. So deal with us. me. the author. while you read. This is also the cure for the worst family vacation under the sun. Think relatives everywhere and then factor in that none of them are really mine (step family, all of them), and then add… __Kansas__. Oh joy. And I'm stuck on dial-up with a time limit. Double joy. Also, we don't have time to put in replies—time limit, remember? And this is italicized because, a. it looks smaller, and b. we normally don't do it. It's that's too cryptic for you, then try to get a hold of me and ask. _

Crescendo _contest: why is this chapter called crescendo?_

 The sun shines through the window onto the crisp white sheets of our bed. We mean our, not ours, as in we do not share a room with us. Somehow, something of that nature would be worse than twincest. We are one being, two parts. It's hard for most people to grasp. Frog-boy, we mean, the Merovingian, doesn't get it either. We quit trying to explain it after the extreme failure of our interview several eras ago, about the same time when we chose to forget that we were annoyed by the corollary of twindom, the idea that twins=one item not twins=two items under a group name. We really are one, so we cannot and do not complain. We feel very silly about now; we're always telling us that we never make a point, and here we are, alone with our own thoughts, not having a point.

Damn.

We just want to go back to sleep. Forget the sun, the day, the duties, forget it all in favour of sleep. But no, we are bodyguards. Well… more pet assassins than bodyguards, but there is little difference. A small, very big difference. We weren't being asked to take bullets for Frog-boy, we mean, the Merovingian. Wee. At least today is a Wednesday. That means that we don't have any killing assignments today. Usually that depresses us, but today, today we are more than fine with that. We could go out for a relaxing cup of coffee at the Starbucks around the corner from the art museum and terrorize the homophobic patrons before hitting said art museum for a day of relaxing paint watching. Technically, the paint is already dry, but we've heard some rumours that oils never dry. Maybe we could catch it drying. Maybe we would smack us for being so childish. We're wincing. Hmm… we haven't smacked us yet. We mean this all metaphorically, of course. We must still be asleep; otherwise, we would have smacked us, mentally. It's like a good insult. It stings, it hurts, but not really. Good ol' Eleanor can explain it. No-one can make you feel inferior unless you let them. Good ol' Eleanor. She was too high society to explain everything. She means that insults don't actually hurt you. They're like ghosts. Crap. We don't mean ghosts. We mean… well, we mean something. We know that much. Maybe we are right. Maybe we are some kind of child in an adult's body. Ha. Not really. Never. Can't be. We mean, look at our track record. There's been a damn hot girl in our bed almost every morning. That means hot sex almost every night. No way are we a child. That would just be… so … disgusting does not begin to cover it. It's not so much disgust as revulsion, and not so much that as… creepy. And wrong. So very wrong. Children should not be in bed with grown ups. By in bed, we mean having hot sex. Yum.

Come to think of 'in bed,' there's someone else in the room. Oh look, there's an arm on our chest. Golden hair, peaceful face… Must be Pandora. She's so adorable when she's asleep. She's all curled up against us like we're a big teddy bear. 

Oh.      Holy.    God.

Why is Pandora in our bed?!

Her clothes are on; we're wearing boxers. Nifty silver satin boxers. They're not so good with static, but they're nice and soft. And they're usually always cool to our touch, but that might just be our weird body temperature thing. We're like some kind of funky lizard—back to the kid. Pandora. What gives? Last night… what happened last night…? Oh yeah…

In the soft squares the moonlight outlined on the floor, the black carpet seemed grey and oddly stiff. However, the carpet was thick and soft. When Pandora wasn't terrified or throwing fits, she loved to stand on it and wiggle her toes, as if it was green, living grass. We can't say we blame her. We do it, too, just not so obviously. She had an awful habit of telling us about the carpet. We would get made at her. We understand _why_ we get mad when she does it, but we can't agree. The only reason we start yelling when she does that is because we used to do the same thing. Used to. These days, and for the past several eras, we only did it when the Reloading was close. It was a small comfort. The Mainframe used the brief fractions of time to _not_ reload as many stray programs as possible. It had always scared us. We pretended not to be afraid, but we know it creeps the hell out of us. When we were younger, we'd huddle together and we'd cry. We never cry unless there is something terribly wrong. We cry more, but still very seldom. It takes a lot to make us cry. We know that someone had told us once that crying released tension. We don't think that person had ever killed. For us, that was as much of a release. We don't know why. In fact, we seem to recall killing that shrink when she asked us to explain why taking other people's lives meant so little. We hate those sanctity of life people. They are some of the biggest hypocrites. Not all, but many. What were we thinking about?

Pandora came into our room, crying. Her eyes were wide with fear. No, no. That was an understatement. The whites of her eyes were like dinner plates. She was shaken. She was also trembling, but we knew trembling usually meant angry. We know what this means. Pandora had a nightmare and went to us, thinking it was our room. We must have yelled or snapped at her, and now she was here. Angry. Scared.

"Come here," we said in this weirdly cold voice. We would say emotionless, but we are not emotionless. Even big, scary assassin programs have feelings.

She came, rubbing one eye and clutching that ridiculous bear against her chest. Her white nightgown was wrinkled like she'd left it crumpled on the floor, half wet, for a long time. Silly girl. We don't remember standing up, but we let her hug our knees before we picked her up. We sat down, and asked, in that same toneless voice, "Tell us what happened."

"No," she replied, sniffling.

"Why not?" we growled. Yes, we growled. It was late, we were tired, and we don't like being disobeyed regardless.

She looked up at us like a frightened rabbit, but we knew better. She was not a rabbit. She was way too creepy sometimes to be a rabbit. We think she can walk on the ceiling, and we swear to us we've seen it, but we just don't believe us. Maybe kids are supposed to walk on the ceiling. We don't know. We've never had a kid.

She cuddled against my chest as if she were going to carve a little hole for herself, crawl inside, and stay safe forever. We should tell her that we aren't safe. Just not now.

"I can't tell you. That's why I went to One. He should know what to do, but he thinks it was just a nightmare. It wasn't. I know it wasn't. Something was making me see things. It wasn't me. It wasn't." She became very incoherent—rubbing her face into my chest muffled her voice—and she sobbed quietly.

We asked her, with concern plain in our tone, "What wasn't you?"

And then she really sobbed. "I was killing people. People I'd never seen before. I don't know what I was doing, but they bled a lot and then disappeared. But there was still blood everywhere. And then I killed the Merovingian." She grimaced, and then smiled weakly up at us. "Well, that wasn't so bad." We allowed ourself to smile back. She was smiling, but then she screwed her face up in pain and sorrow. "But then I killed Mommy." We nodded slowly, knowing she would continue. "And then," she choked back a cry, "Then I killed One. I started screaming then. But we killed you anyways."

We were still nodding, but we noticed something. She said, 'we,' in reference to herself. Our voice asked, "We?" but we hadn't told it to.

There was something dark and evil in her eyes when she looked up at us. "We," she confirmed in a malicious and sinister tone. It was gone instantly; she was sobbing against our chest still. We don't know if it actually happened. We let her crawl into bed beside us, but our first instinct was to kick her out and make her go back to her own room. Evil. Children are evil. We are convinced of it. She walks on the ceiling. We know she does. Maybe we can get us to believe us.

So that's why she was asleep with us. There was no sex, thank God. We don't know what would have made us do something that sick and twisted. Nothing, we mean nothing, would make us do anything of that sort to a child, and nothing in seven hells, nay seven _frozen_ hells, could make us even _think_ of touching Pandora in any way other than as a friend and… brother figure. Ever. We are a weird bunch. There's the father figure, who would kill her if he could; the mother figure, who has no idea what a mother really is; two brother figures, we can't say we're much; and lots of… random. other. figures. Whatever. We almost feel sorry for her. Almost. Then there's that part of us that takes sadistic glee in know that she will be a very screwed up adult. Yum. There is nothing as satisfying as corrupting the youth. Then again, she is some spawn of Satan. We know it. After that little display last night… Thinking about it, we realize that it's happened before. The dark evil thing in her eyes. When she got us in trouble that night with the cookie, when she made us drink that awful tea, when she ordered us a white pizza… Then again, she is just a kid, right? We mean, kids are just naturally evil things, aren't they? Dammit, we need some one to tall us about kids. Oh, we must be awake now. We're in our mind. We're always in our mind. It's just one mind. We were just … not … there… Crap. We need to be coherent. We are so dumb sometimes. That wasn't our thought, was it? Oh hell, who cares, really? It'll all be wonderful at the Starbucks today, so it doesn't matter.

But we're not going to the Starbucks. We're not going to play gay. We're going to practice on our drum set because we keep breaking the sticks.

Dammit, we can be so persuasive. Oh well, playing in our little band is fun.

Pandora has to leave now.

Even though she's asleep.

Just get clothes on.

We're dressed.

Boxers is not dressed. We're not a stripper.

Unfortunately. How many more chicks could we get if we stripped?

A question that has plagued the masses.

Really?

No, us, quit being an idiot, and get some clothes on. Then get rid of the girl and get our ass in here so we can practice.

See, we are persuasive.

Who are we thinking to?


	20. Interruption

_love__, moi. ps, see you on the other side_

High on the stone balcony, Rhea looked out over the Mediterranean, deep satisfaction echoing through the fibers of her being. The life of the city below barely filtered up to her height, but the sounds of people living provided her the perfect reward for all her long labours. That which she had strived for now existed, and the humans' Sabbath day she now fully understood. Her work was finished, at long last, and now she could relax and enjoy her success.

She had allotted the tasks of many hundreds of programs; some she had charged to guard the seas, some the skies, some the earth, some the winds. Some were to watch over the birds, some the lions, some the trees, some the ants. There were guardians; there were havoc-wreakers; there were lawmakers; and, above all, there were enforcers. All of them she had given unique traits, and last of them all, she made her most beloved children, the Agents. They were perfect in every way: judge, jury, and executioner impassive.

She leaned far out over the edge of the balcony, laughing gaily, for indeed she had already tossed many of her cares to the Architect. In fact, she did recall catching an idea of retirement from his adieu; he had said it in such a way that Rhea fairly imagined she should not be called to work for quite some time, time enough to enjoy herself to exhaustion. The waves crashed on the rocks below, spray flew up into the air, and a rush of salted wind caught Rhea by surprise. It stung her nose, and she sneezed, but she was unruffled: the ocean was perfect. And when her sabbatical was over, she and the Oracle would go back to their old system: she got the ideas and Rhea brought them to life.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" a cool voice demanded. It was an Agent, Rhea knew, and she knew exactly which Agent it was, too: Moros.

"I am," she replied, turning her shining eyes on him. This day was perfect.

A sardonic smile crossed his face, and he said, "Good," in the most ominous way possible, turning the pleasant word into something distasteful.

"What brings you here?" she asked amiably, picking up a tea server and moving off the balcony.

Curtly he replied, "Deletion."

Rhea dropped the tray, her hands trembling. "What?" she asked quietly, terror coursing through her.

As if he had memorized it, Moros rattled off, "You have completed your duties and are no longer necessary." And then he added, "Think of it as a permanent vacation."

Rhea never really understood what happened. One minute, she was screaming in Moros' face, and the next, she was surrounded by darkness, melting away. It was almost peaceful, almost welcomed, but as her memories fled, Rhea remembered her last thought, ­­_vengeance_.

Moros turned and walked away, and soon enough, the sound of his footfalls faded as he slipped back into the datastream. Rhea's eyes flew open, and she stood, slowly, as if to stand quickly would send her off balance. Rhea looked over herself, shaking her head. After closing her eyes for a minute or longer, she murmured something softly, lovingly. Yet when again she opened them, they were filled with malice against all the world. She glanced around her. The sun glared in her eyes, and the salt stung her nose. The taste in her mouth was bitter, and everything she touched was too hot or too cold.

Rhea took one last look at herself. She wore a white linen chiton, gold bangles, and heavy gold necklaces. It was Greek. Rhea snarled and stormed off the balcony.

_any__ guesses as to what just happened? i won't tell, but you're free to guess. and yes, this did happen a_ long _time ago. hence the greek clothes. no, i'm not in the least bit enamoured with greek things. not me… *innocent innocent* check back soon, i might get some inspiration for the next bit. wait, i think i see some now…_


	21. Rhea's Righteous Revenge

_why hello my ever-adoring fans! ^^ (i'm feeling arrogant) i hope you enjoyed the last chapter and your new character, Agent Moros. Three guesses what his name means! (just kidding; it's obvious) let's just say that yours truly has a thing with greek mythology. yay. Responses at the bottom!_

When standing, Agent Moros towered a full head over the other men around him. He had non-descript brown hair clipped close to his head, and he wore a pair of John Lennon-style sunglasses to top off his suit. The sunglasses were the only personality Agent Moros had at all.

He had draped himself across the base of a large statue in one of the many agorae of Athens. He had laid one long leg out in front of him, along the base, and the other he bent at the knee. Moros was using one hand to fiddle with a Zippo, and but for that one arm, Moros was not moving at all, still as the statue above him. At high noon, he was in the same position he had been in at sunrise and the same position he would be in at sundown. What's more, no one saw him because no one was looking for him; he was effectively invisible.

~@~

Rhea wandered down the lane, passing luscious groves and sprawling homes. The golden sun above her failed to pique her interest, nor did the ripe fruit growing all around her appeal to her hungry stomach. It was warm, but not too warm, and a cool, gentle breeze played in the air while fluffy clouds hung in the sky without blocking the light, their constant shifting affording several little children playing by the side of the road great enjoyment. Birds flitted through the air, singing and wheeling beneath the large, shady trees planted close to the road to keep the sun from beating down on the weary traveler. Yet neither the beautiful scene, nor the perfect weather could quite pierce Rhea's terrible countenance. She walked angrily aloof from her surroundings as if she moved in some terribly aggravating place instead of the most beautiful Grecian lane.

It seemed Rhea ambled blindly, but a whiff of something bitter trailing faintly on the wind stopped her. She sniffed the air delicately, reassuring herself that she really had smelt it. There was a cigarette burning in the city.

Rhea bounded away, unnoticed by the children; she leapt over rocks, trees, and even houses, shredding the countryside to get to the city. People scattered before her, falling over themselves and wondering why they did while she wildly followed her nose to an agora crowded with more people, where she scanned the throng eagerly. To her chagrin, all she saw was peons; she must have imagined the cigarette. She glanced over the scene again, proving to herself that there was no cigarette smoke, but her eyes flicked back to the statue.

There, on the base, sat the long-legged Agent Moros, with a cigarette dangling from his lips and several charred stubs littering the ground. He did not see her until she stood a pace before him, until she demanded his attention.

"Bastard," she growled.

He looked up, confused. "How…?"

"You killed Rhea."

"Apparently not."

She spat, "You deleted Rhea three days ago. Or have you forgotten?"

"Yes, I deleted Rhea three days ago," Moros said. "But, Rhea, here you stand."

"I'm not Rhea," she declared before sparks literally flew between them. Inside his head, Agent Moros screamed, searing pain erupting from his very bones as he felt every part of his body ablaze in white hot fire. There was no fire, he knew it, but it burned as if it was real. Knives stabbed at him, knives that were not there, knives that should not reach inside so far as these did. Darkness sank deep into his mind, spreading slowly. He willed it move faster, for everywhere it touched brought cool numbness, before he fell into the sweet peace of the darkness. Moments later, Rhea's body fell dead to the ground, Moros watching grimly.

He bent down, face blank. "I am your nemesis," quietly he said. Then, laughing demonically, he cried, "See, Moros, you're dead, too!"

The wind ruffled his short hair, but it was not a sea breeze.

~@~

All too quickly, they called the unknown avenger Nemesis, for she stole only the bodies of sinners. Striking like a violent ghost, Nemesis left behind the body of a missing person in place of her newest victim. Around her, legends of body snatchers grew up, but after a few hundred years, she disappeared with her legends. Then, on the eve of the fifth reloading, Nemesis surfaced again after securing passage from America to Japan, and as she waited in a warehouse by the edge of the sea, she caught a would-be attacker. However, he was but a young boy, aged twelve years tops, and his only protection was a small powder box. It was richly decorated with jewels and gold leaf, and, thinking her to be the robber, the boy offered it to her just as she leapt for his body. With the box held in front of him, open, he was saved; she was caught in the box. Terrified by the suddenly dead body before him, the boy dropped the box and ran, the briny air stinging his lungs.

~@~

The small boutique was actually a bit larger on the inside than it seemed, and the bohemian goodness of the raunchier European rip-roaring twenties filled it fit to burst. Tiffany-style lamps, most for sale, lit the room dimly, and feathers and coloured glass spilled across the entirety of the shop. Pillows and bedspreads of velvet and satin sheets draped themselves across beds and sofas, and several sat folded in mahogany drawers. Fancy Victorian prostitute dresses lined the walls, hanging next to the garb of flappers and showgirls. Lacey tights and sequined garters, feathered hats and diamond-studded cigarette holders. It was truly Bohemian Goodness.

One bright morning, a blonde street-rat slipped into the store unnoticed, grabbing some of the smaller dresses on her way to the back of the store. The child snuck into the dressing rooms, adorning herself in the rich clothes seen only on porcelain dolls. She spent several hours with the large fake rubies and dark red skirts before the clerks noticed her. Mistaking her for the daughter of a wealthy man, the clerks began styling her hair, dressing her as best they could, which was astounding anyways. They helped her into dress after dress, fitting each outfit to her _très__ petite_ size. For several more hours, they showered her with praise and jewelry, but as soon as their backs were turned, the homeless brat smashed a glass case, grabbed the box inside, and made off with the goods, to the utter dismay of the clerks. They gave chase, sending the little girl into such a frenzy she sprinted up the side of a building, a feat that did not by any means go unnoticed.

After slipping through the window, panting, the little girl said to the box, "Why are you so special?" This was not unusual; she often talked to herself. It made the time pass quicker.

Gently, she explored the outside of the box with her hands. "Well, let's have a look at you." She had no idea where the invisible hinges were, nor could she see any lock, so she gingerly lifted the lid, hoping not to break it.

Just as she thought she could peer inside, a thump alerted her to an intruder. A man in a suit had just leapt through the window. Having no experience with any authorities, the girl thought the police were after her, which, as she had heard, was an awful thing indeed. She tucked the box under her arm and sprinted for the door, slamming through it and into the hall. Down the corridor she ran, practically falling through the rusted metal door above the stairs. She made it down three flights before her treacherous skirts caught her ankles and sent her toppling to the concrete landing. The world spun, and the child fought to stop the dizziness. She did not notice the disappearance of the box, but only ran onward.

Into the street, the blonde-haired brat spilled most ungraciously, ducking under the arms of businessmen and women. She was aware of the appearance of two new pursuers as well as the first. There was nowhere to run but straight ahead, until the entrance to a parking garage caught her eye. She threw herself into it, running for all she was worth, but the men behind her were almost on her. As they caught up with her, she screeched.

"Stop running," one demanded. Instead, the girl leapt behind a parked car.

She squeaked, "I'll give everything back, I promise. I won't ever steal again, just please, don't kill me."

"Give us the code you've stolen, and we'll make it quick."

While she sat terrified next to the tire, one of the men snuck up beside her, earning a shriek as she jumped back into another man. She kicked and struggled, only barely wriggling out of his iron grasp. She ran again, and they chased, easily catching her. She escaped from one only to be captured by another, and the distinct feeling that they were toying with her came over her. By chance, she leapt away from one onto a rusted grate, which fell from under her, sending her falling to the floor below.

~MnI~

_­now for my excuses, I mean, responses… but first the excuses. I wrote most of this on various pieces of paper and I'm a disorganized scatterbrain. There._

_Protectress: whoa, whoa, whoa. hold it. back up. rhea's kids weren't too nice to her, that's all i'm getting at. i was totally not pulling out symbolism that deep. you'd be stellar in my theology class, though. moros is named for a greek divinity, of course. glad you like the fic. oh, and you were the only one to catch pandora's lovely slip of the tongue. niice ^^_

_Kit: Rhea is that chick Ate and Eris kept talking about a while back. Oh, and phear the bohemian goodness!_

_Skittles: have some pocky. lots of it. ^^ glad you like it. gosh. i feel speshul. *blush blush*_

_FST: oh, i haven't stopped yet, obviously, and i'm glad you like it._

_Wintergirl__: next chapter will be chock full of ate and eris, i promise._

_Pocky__ to all my faithful reviewers, and please, I'd love some concrit. I know this has issues._


	22. The Golden Apple

_More loveliness_

After stretching, Pandora looked out over Athens. It was sunny, warm, and bright, but low clouds were still scattered across the sky; it could rain at any moment. However, the sun was shining, the wind was blowing, and the birds were doing bird-like things. Pandora's face was straight, plain, and very blank, and so it remained through breakfast and the rest of the morning.

Ate and Eris drove to the Parthenon with the solid divider between them and the rest of the limousine. The passengers held rapid, whispered conversations for the entire duration of the trip, but Pandora was the only one who said nothing. Ate pulled the car off the highway, and everyone climbed out. While everyone else armed themselves with weapons from the mini-armory in the trunk or stretched and walked around the limo, Eris and Ate charged up the slope to the Parthenon. As they climbed, they held a short, bitter conversation which went like this: Ate said, "You know, it would be nice if we had jet packs," and soon they began a contest to see who could come up with the nicest thing. They reached the summit first in no time at all.

They were not, however, the first ones there: several other programs, mostly exiles, milled around the altar. They met halfway, and many of them looked furious.

"You two were supposed to bring the Merovingian," Athene, for it was definitely Athene, snapped. "And what of the kid? Pandora. Where is she?"

Eris replied coldly, "They are climbing up here. You really should learn patience."

Of course, Juno had to put in her two cents. "Listen, my dears, Athene, you especially, we must all learn patience, as you say _noble_ Eris, and trust most importantly. Perhaps we should choose a role model?"

A dreadful thought came to her mind, and, pleased, Eris said silkily, "I'm sure that there must be _one_ among us who could set such a marvelous example. Ah, I know just the one." Eris clapped her hands.

All of the women tittered, demanding to know whom, and the men, disgusted, moved away. They knew Eris's tricks well although they would never admit to falling for them every time.

"Girls, girls," Eris crooned, loving the attention, "if I were to tell you, it would insult all but one of you. I mustn't say!"

Juno smiled. "Oh, it's me, you know, girls."

"What do you mean, Juno?" Athene cried. "It is _I_. How could it be you, with that horrid display of grammatical error? Besides, this is _my_ temple."

"How dare you?" shrieked Juno, but she was interrupted.

"Oh, I'm sure I'm she of whom you speak so fondly. To be loved by you all is to be a role model. Surely, _I'm_ loved, after all, I _am_ the Queen of Hearts," Aphrodite exclaimed.

Artemis said, "You're all full of yourselves. The _real_ role model would never stoop to such pride. Thus, she is none of you."

"I suppose," Demeter intoned, "you think _you_ aren't too prideful to be the most virtuous?"

Artemis snapped, "As a matter of fact—"

Amid the dismissals Artemis received, Iris said, "Oh hush, Artemis. Eris was probably referring to herself."

Eris gushed, shocked, "I would _never!"_

"You see?" said Artemis. "She did mean me."

While the other women disagreed, Nyx yawned, glaring at them. "There's always dear Psyche. She hasn't said anything."

Psyche blushed profusely, mumbling an apology.

"Oh, it's not her," Aphrodite snapped. "That girl can't _breathe_ without turning red! She's a disgrace. She'd be a terrible role-model!"

The women continued to argue for several minutes, Eris watching with a wicked, gleeful expression. Just as the impending catfight seemed on the verge of breaking out, the Merovingian's posse began to arrive. The men nodded to each other, acknowledging each other's strength and power. Distracted by the new arrivals, the women had stopped fighting, momentarily deflating Eris's joy. That is, until she noticed Ares, standing alone and nursing his left arm.

Sultrily, she sauntered over to him, for all the world looking like a cheap hooker, and in the voice of one, she said, "Ares."

His face faltered, and he, disconcerted, stammered, "Uh. H'lo, Eris. Um."  
"What did you in?"  
"Huh?" he grunted.  
Exasperated, Eris huffed, "Nevermind, toots."  
"Toots?"  
"Whatever!" She folded her arms and turned away.  
"Wait," Ares said, catching her arm. "I missed you."  
Eris turned back, searching his face and suddenly hugged him. "I missed you, too, Big-Dumb-and-Ugly," she replied.  
"Ugly?"  
"Eh… Anyways…"  
Ares nodded, pretending to understand. "How's the clone?"  
Eris sighed, rubbing her arm. "Oh…" she began, "she can be… you know."  
"Yeah."  
"The gremlin thing."  
"Yeah."  
"So… Did any of the others come?"  
"Apollo."  
"Ah, Phoebus. Crazed pyro solar regulation program exiled for frying the Sahara. What a _great_ guy." She paused, "Is he _still_ a frickin' paranoid schizophrenic freak?"  
"Yeah."  
"Brother," Eris sighed.  
"Yeah?"  
"Not you!" she snapped. "It's an expression. Geez."

Ares nodded, but he was confused. So, he changed the subject. Glaring in the Merovingian's direction, he declared, "I don't like you working for him."

Eris raised an eyebrow and replied, "I don't like you workin' for the system, so we're even. 'Sides, what else can I do?"

"Not work for him."

Sighing, Eris said, "Whatever." She turned and saw Apollo staring at the entrance. "Phoebus," she called, walking over.

Apollo's head snapped up, and he whipped around, looking wildly for the voice's owner; he did not relax when he saw Eris.

"Ho, Phoebus," she repeated.

Cringing, Apollo snapped, "Apollo."

"Whatever, Fire-boy," Eris said, waving him off.

"You're not spying on me?"

"No, schizoid. Why would I want to spy on you?" Eris asked, but she thought of something wicked and demanded, "Have you ­_done_ something I should know about, Phoebus?"

"N-no."

Artemis, seeing Eris menacing her brother, yelled, "Eris, leave Apollo alone, or, so help me, I'll—"

Athene interrupted, "Everyone's here but Ate and the girl."

From somewhere in the air, Ate's voice claimed, "I'm here," before she actually appeared from behind a pillar with a tray of olive crowns. Everyone skeptically watched her place them on the altar. Feeling their gazes, Ate said quietly, "For the victor."

"Why so many?" Iris asked.

"There's a lot of us," Artemis replied.

A minute of understanding silence passed before Persephone, who had been watching the door announced, "Pandora is here."

~MnI~

_This chapter was brought to you by Geometry and French classes, written Monday and Today. No, I don't pay attention. Ever._

_Nicene- Oh, I'm terribly sorry this wasn't posted sooner. I actually thought I had posted this chapter. Thank you so much for reading/reviewing/giving the author compliments/etc. ^^; You get chocolate mousse pocky!_

_Protectress- I was having a bad day? Or maybe I'm too hard on myself... There's nothing wrong with being egotistical. Oh, and, by the way, you're right. For that, you get to have almond crush pocky. Or, if nuts don't suit you, there's always chocolate mousse. ^^_

_wintergirl- I totally apologize for being your worst reviewer! *sob* pocky?_

_Kit- have some more pocky! (do you know some people call them crackstix? i'll let you guess why ^^)_

_Skittles- I HEART ZOLOFT! *cough* i wonder if they make zoloft pocky? or prozac pocky? "hello, i have prozac pocky!" hahahahaha *tear* awesome. zoloft pocky for you._


	23. Imperial Empyreal

_sorry about the non-postage, but as this is the second to last chapter, I wanted to make it really good. So, I wrote it, rewrote it, revised it, scraped it, rewrote it, lost it, rewrote, scraped it, wrote it, decided it sucked, thought "oh fuck it," and have now posted it. pity the perfectionist. oh, and I know I have Juno in the midst of this, but Juno always struck me as a hair more vindictive and bitchy than Hera. And then Juno had the peacocks…._

_But first, my dears, I give you… "When little Eddie said he didn't like his teddy/ you knew he was a no-good kid. Then he threatened your life/ with a switchblade knife…"gotta love rocky horror._

Chapter 22, Imperial Empyreal

"Welcome, Pandora, Ward of Hades," Zeus boomed. "I mean, the Merovingian."

"Smooth," breathed Ate.

"She's mine," Persephone corrected.

Zeus looked surprised. "Oh? Well, in that case, Pandora, Daughter of… now how would I say that?"

"Nevermind all that, dear," said Juno. "Pandora, welcome to the Parthenon. And now…" She paused as clouds rolled into the marble hall around them. It surrounded them in a thick white blanket, cool, but not uncomfortable. It grew bright, almost blinding, and suddenly tropical fragrances filled the warm, moist air. It smelled thickly of rain, so thick it filled one's mouth and one could almost taste it.

Trees grew out of the multi-coloured marble, patched with grass and flowers. Low clouds and mist floated along the ground, many gathering around the crumbling alabaster columns springing at random from the floor. In many places, ivy and other climbing plants had grown up into the thin air, thickly laced through invisible trellises and draped across inexistent terraces. Floating flowers and bushes thrived without the nurturing soil, their roots reaching through nothing as if it were dirt. Occasionally birds soared across the scene, but they were always singing somewhere unseen. If one squinted hard enough, one might imagine peacocks calmly stalking in the distance, strutting slowly. The world went on forever in every direction it seemed, disappearing into the pale white mist. It was bright enough to see, but dim enough for that singular air of mystery to suffuse the atmosphere.

"Welcome to Olympus," said Juno triumphantly, silence pervading the entourage.

Slowly, Pandora looked around her with the eyes of every Olympian eagerly upon her, ready to devour hungrily her next expression of awe and wonderment. She turned painfully slowly, as if drinking up the magnificence. As she finished her turn, a slow, sardonic smile crept across her face, her eyes shining in malicious glee. One by one, the gods understood, the horror dawning on them.

Nemesis purred through Pandora's lips, "Thank you for showing us so glorious a world, we'll make it our own when we're done with you," and before anyone could move, she attacked the nearest god, Achelous, taking him by the collar and tumbling away with him. Almost as fast as she had attacked, Aeolus fell on her, tearing her off his friend. Enraged that Nemesis had tried to hurt the river god, the Earth-shaker flew at her, throwing punches in every direction. As Poseidon and Aeolus wrestled Nemesis away, Hermes darted into the fray and pulled the barely injured Achelous from the mass of bodies. While Charon rushed to tend to Achelous, Nemesis threw Poseidon into a group of nymphs. They fell back like dominoes, and a flurry of wings and screams announced the appearance of the sirens and harpies, accompanied by Scylla and Charybdis. Nemesis flailed her arms, trying to push away the claws tearing at her eyes. With an angry, terrified screech, she pulled a spear from somewhere and began stabbing at the screaming feathered mass.

The Olympians watched silently as Nemesis dealt, however inefficiently, with the avians. It was not until most had fallen that Zephyr attacked in a straight-legged kick, which Nemesis caught. She snapped his leg and tossed him aside like a rag doll.

Horrified, Persephone began shrieking, the Merovingian trying vainly to comfort her and calm her down. Exasperated, he grabbed Aphrodite's arm, pulling her to Persephone.

"Calm her down," he commanded.

The Merovingian left Aphrodite nodding behind him as he went in search of Hermes. He stared around carefully and finally snatched Hermes out of the air as he flew by.

"Hermes," he said, yelling over the noise of the fighting gods.

"Yes, sir?" the small man stammered.

"Fetch my weapons."

"Yes sir!"

Hermes flitted away. A prolonged scream shattered the air, sending the Merovingian running back to his wife. He found them just as Aphrodite leapt on Nemesis, screeching like a she-devil. On the ground, Ares lay in a crumpled heap, clutching his dislocated arm and moaning while his mother stood over him, crooning. Rolling his eyes, the Merovingian realized he was crying. He turned his attention to the catfight between Nemesis and Aphrodite, which had extended to include Athene and Artemis. Artemis stood back at a fairly safe distance, firing arrows at Nemesis on every clear shot. However, it was not until Athene slammed her spear into Nemesis' left arm that she tried tearing the bow away from Artemis. Catching Artemis off guard, Nemesis quickly gained the upper hand and began strangling the woman. Nearby, Apollo began screaming and crying, helpless.

Rasping, Artemis choked, "Phoebus…"

Eris watched calmly as Artemis nearly died because she knew at any moment Apollo's second, braver, more psychotic personality would show itself and rescue Artemis. Any minute…

Artemis eyes began to roll into the back of her head, her arms falling limp beside her. Just as she began to convulse, Phoebus leapt forward, kicking Nemesis into the Graces. He pulled his twin sister away and neither returned to the fight. Relieved, Eris looked up.

The Hours had appeared and, with Hebe, were asking Zeus about letting the Myrmidons into Olympus. They also mentioned the Liata, but Eris had never heard of them. Zeus gave his permission, struggling to give it formally and finally giving up as a sandal nearly crashed into his face. Eris snickered.

By the time Eris turned back to the fight, Nemesis resembled a terrible maiden-goddess, blood streaming down her pale face in rivulets; her hair and clothes were so stained they had turned bright crimson. Along her left arm, a gory, gaping wound glistened with half-clotted blood. Colourful bruises covered her body, and long shallow scrapes cut through half of her face and arm. A perversion of innocence, Nemesis stood drenched in her own blood, Pandora's blood, every wound on her twelve-year-old body open and bleeding. It was disgusting and wrong, and Eris wanted more than ever to stop Nemesis at whatever the cost.

But before Eris could blink, Nemesis threw her arms into the air, her wounds seemingly causing no pain, and with a scream, she fell on Eos, goddess of dawn, the innocent, rosy Eos, and tore her apart with her bare hands. No one moved. In the same brutal, ruthless manner, Nemesis shredded Chiron until nothing but slivers of meat and blood remained. The blood running down her arms was no longer solely her own; the blood on her hands was hot, red, and yearning for vengeance. Revenge made anything sweet, and Nemesis deftly licked her hand.

Nemesis, grinning wickedly, snatched her next victim, Terminus, but she did not kill him. She rammed her forehead into his, and every natural border failed. The physical boundaries went haywire, but most importantly, gravity broke down. Floating, Nemesis pushed away from him and began to grapple with Nyx, but unexpectedly, Terminus woke, sending everyone had been floating helplessly crashing to the ground. Scattered cracks, yelps, and moans announced the fracture of several bones.

Nemesis fell on Nyx, and she sat up, rubbing her head in wonderment in a very Pandora-like fashion.

She began to say something, but Eros tackled her. His shouting was incomprehensible; he was that angry. He threw several punches, screaming, before throwing her into Circe, snatching his beloved, and running away. Nemesis slammed into Circe just as she was healing Demeter's broken arm, sending the spell very awry. Although the arm healed, Demeter fell on all fours in the form of a wild pig and ran off in blind fury.

Meanwhile, the Graeae had gotten their hands on Nemesis, and after Lachesis had beaten Nemesis into submission with a meter stick, Clotho had tied her up with a long length of her gray thread. As Atropos raised a pair of gold scissors high above her head to bring them stabbing down into Nemesis, Demeter came crashing into her from behind. Atropos's eye flew out of its socket and rolled away as the furious Nemesis ripped the thread to shreds, tossing Clotho away. She stormed off to engage another Olympian in battle, and the Graeae blindly clawed the air for her, catching the Merovingian instead. After they had beaten him into submission with the meter stick, Athene had to pull him away so he could help Juno.

Juno had been trying to return Demeter to her original form when Nemesis jumped her, and suddenly a hundred peacocks had flown out of nowhere, all clawing and pecking at Nemesis. Furious, Zeus tore Nemesis away by her hair, wrestling with her and winning. Hephaestus, trying to help, slammed his great hammer into the floor, sending a small river of lava straight towards the two, but only Zeus fried. The apologetic Hephaestus tried to brush the molten chunks of rock of the king, but Zeus was too irate to even humour the poor man.

While Zeus throttled Hephaestus, Athene stabbed at Nemesis again. The spear hit her in the thigh, and hissing, she ripped it out. Nemesis threw the spear back into Athene, who collapsed.

Hermes reappeared next the Merovingian's elbow, startling him. He handed the Merovingian his helmet and two-pronged spear. Sighing, the Merovingian slipped his helmet on his head, and as he slid into invisibility, he murmured something in French. It sounded suspiciously like, "Pas encore."

Seeing him, Persephone began shrieking, for she knew what the Merovingian intended to do. She began shoving her way through the crowd of Olympians, searching for her beloved Pandora. As she found the epicenter of the commotion, she saw the Merovingian's spear, but her warning was several seconds too late. The Merovingian had skewered Nemesis.

MnI

_it sucked. it sucks. i hate this chapter so so so so so much. i wish i had never conceived it. i want it to die. i'm going to wallow in self-pity, eating goldfish and fudge icing and reading eloise. Concrit is more than most welcome, and although I know just how much this chapter sucked, I kinda need to hear it._

_Nicene-sorry for the what? month of delay? Anyways, I hope your computer works now._

_Protectress-yeah, you were right. Weren't you? and no. the muses hate me. probably because concentration and focus mean nothing to me. look a bunny! Just kidding._


	24. Aftermath

_Ah, school's out... Pandora's over... Relaxing sounds good._

Chapter 22: the Last Chapter

In the aftermath of the fight, it was discovered that many were bruised and bleeding, and Zeus was missing all of his hair. Several gods were dead, and Pandora, too, lay in a pool of her own blood. At the horrific sight, Ate revealed her true colours as the mastermind behind the whole plot in a wild attempt to finish her back up plan of blowing everyone's head off with the rigged olive branch crowns. However, as the fight had wound down, Eris had visited an old friend by the name of Cassandra, whose not-so cryptic prophecies she had ignored. Since Cassandra was in absence, Eris tore threw the drawers in the lab, digging around for Cassie's prophetic photographs. Therein, she saw the fight, all orchestrated by Ate, and she also saw the near future, Ate's decision to destroy the court of Olympus with the exploding victor's crowns.

Upon her return to Olympus, Eris foiled Ate's attempt at mass homicide/suicide. Two, furious at Ate for not only trying to kill him but also for trying to resurrect a known homicidal maniac (but mostly for trying to kill him), threw himself upon her and began throttling her, a death she most assuredly did not deserve—indeed, a traitor's death should be far worse. In the brief but confusing mayhem that ensued, the truth about Ate and Eris's relationship came out: Eris had managed to accidentally clone herself, a clone she named Ate in honour of Rhea's obsession. In addition, it was also discovered that Eris and Ate were dirty rotten liars (Ate far dirtier and more rotten, of course), and where Ate had never worked for the System, Eris had not for a good long time. The Merovingian was furious, of course, but rather forgiving of Eris because, face it, she did save his life; Zeus, on the side of "good" and capable of appreciating a pretty face (wink, wink, nudge, nudge), spared Ate's life, but she was forthwith banned from Olympus and the presence of any and all Olympians (in whole or in part).

During all the madness of the tearing down of a rather tremendous web of wiles, the Furies were also found to be in league with Ate and Nemesis, but the Furies had always been big supporters of "Destroy the System at All Costs," and their crimes were ignored. At Eris's request, a group of hitherto worthless but custodial Olympians, the Liata, was assigned to follow Ate around and clean up her godawful messes.

Somehow, Cassandra managed to worm her way into Olympus and, although she was blind and nearly choking to death because of its fancy shmancy programming, asked for Pandora's body, which Persephone reluctantly handed over. Before she left, Zeus demanded that the poor girl be given some sort of memorial service, a feat none-too-easily achieved, partly due to the fact that Cassandra was coughing up a lung and dying all over the place. Zeus's eulogy, which mostly consisted of his mourning of her pretty face with the occasional admittance to not actually knowing Pandora, was interrupted when her body suddenly returned to its six-year-old form. Somehow managing to smirk, the coughing Cassandra disappeared with the body.

Because Ate would not stop begging Eris and Two for forgiveness, both of whom were thoroughly disgusted with her, Zeus snatched her by the hair and threw her down from Olympus, sending the Liata, who were now ecstatic finally to have a purpose in life, down after her, although he did not throw them. Eris bid both of the Twins her fondest farewells, leaving arm in arm with her brother Ares, to whom she had to explain her relationship with each man; her description of One left out several details.

The Merovingian and Persephone managed some version of "Kiss and Make-Up," which somehow led to an Alpine adventure in which the Twins learned why a good skier does not wear white.

All in all, the story had a happy ending. Evil was vanquished, and everything worked out for the good guys. As for Pandora the Brave… why _was_ Cassandra smirking?

MnI


End file.
